Whatever It Takes
by scribblindown
Summary: Somehow a young Harry Potter managed to land Hisashi Midoriya as one of his babysitters, and in the typical Potter fashion, events spiral out of control. [AU]
1. Prologue

_Notes_ :

· The Harry Potter timeline will be moved up to the twenty-first century so it can fit with the BNHA timeline.

· This will be partial AU, because U.A. Academy will start in September, not April.

* * *

Five-year-old Harry Potter was Quirkless.

Even in the small, humble town of Little Whinging, Surrey, it was important enough for the government to send over personnel to St. Grogory's Primary School to help the children his age discover what their Quirks were. The school was buzzing that day, and all of the kids moved as if their limbs were charged with energy. Everyone that entered the nurse's room always exited with a smile that was larger than life, and was quick to exclaim their Quirk to anyone who would hear.

Harry Potter, that poor little boy that has gone through more than any five-year-old should, entered the nurse's office with a reserved smile. However, that spark in his green eyes and the jittery vibrations of his body did little to hide his excitement.

He, always the late bloomer, scrawnier and skinnier than the rest of his peers, was going to finally figure out what his Quirk was.

Their doctor was a nice, pretty lady that had a nice smile and asked Harry all kinds of small questions as she prepared her notes and her pens and papers. She carefully told him between her light chatter about the three cats she had at home that she had a Quirk that would be able to tell her what someone's Quirk was. She carefully took his hand and held it between her two own, and Harry watched in silent amazement at how the three hands glowed like he was holding a flashlight against his skin in the dark. To make the process pass by easier, she started up with the small talk once more, but Harry could only fix his eyes on their skin.

Suddenly, among small chatter of how she was planning on being a Hero, but ultimately decided on this profession for the government and, "Isn't life just crazy like that—?"

She stopped.

For a quick second, Harry believed that this was a side-effect of her Quirk, that the words of his Quirk were being fed into her brain right now, but then she slowly turned her head as if she was a puppet on strings, with the head being turned on a rickety joint. The woman's eyes were wide with fear. Harry quickly asked her what was wrong, his voice urgent, and the moment the woman's eyes met with his, she quickly muttered the word that would cement his childhood as what he really was.

"Oh, sweetie—" Her voice bled with pity.

Harry's heart dropped to his stomach.

"—You're—"

 _Quirkless_.

. . .

Poor Harry Potter, who was too young to not quite grasp the idea of his aunt's loathing of him, could only come home crying to his aunt while holding the paper that told them of his condition. Tears fell down his cheeks, but he didn't whine, or shout, he only waited and watched.

Petunia offered no form of comfort, but no satisfied smirk about how her Dudders was much better than he was. She only turned paper-white, and shook with fear as she scanned the contents of the paper that set Harry's future in stone.

She only whispered one thing to him, amidst a pale face and white knuckles.

"Your freak of a mother was just the same."

* * *

Harry Potter was kicked out of the house again.

At six years old and during the peak of winter, one would've thought that his relatives would've been more sympathetic to the nephew that they were left with, but Dudley, who flaunted around his quirk of being able to transform his skin with rubber-like (but Harry always internally called it blubber-like) qualities, had been shoving Harry around in the living room, and pushed the boy into Aunt Petunia's fine china showcase. His aunt screamed like a banshee at him, weeping for her shattered plates and painted kettles, and left him no compassion as she pushed the boy outside and slammed the door in his face.

The weather was brutal at this time of the year, especially for someone dressed only in too-big sweatpants, a ratty sweater, and a worn out shirt underneath. However, he had been kicked out before, and for all of those times, he made his way to the local library to read, or made his way to the park to watch the kids his age play with their parents or show their Quirks off to their friends. Harry sighed again, and kicked at a small pebble at the sidewalk with his ratty, hand-me-down sneakers before making his way down the street.

He turned around the corner and started to wind his way out of the suburb's street before he was forced to pause when a car slowed down in front of him. A used white Chevy model slowly pulled up to the driveway, with the metal rattling and the bright headlights being dimmed by the snow that was slowly falling. The car jolted to a stop with a quick pull of the breaks, and in an instant, Hisashi Midoriya clambered out.

"H-Harry!" the Japanese businessman cried out, surprised at the appearance of the young wizard. He took in his appearance and forced himself to speak past his shock. "W-What are you doing here?"

Harry blinked at the appearance of their neighbor, blindsided by the headlights before he stuttered back into reality. All of Aunt Petunia's lessons on manners quickly flashed into line and the boy jumped from remembrance.

"H-Hello, Mr. Midoriya! How are you?" Harry said, his voice still light with his young age, but his voice shook with contained shudders and clatters of teeth.

They knew each other, and with Petunia's gossiping, everyone in the household knew about him. Hisashi Midoriya was a businessman that had transferred from Japan to England several years ago, and according to the neighbors, he didn't seem to do anything but work. His accent was still thick and according to the neighborhood ladies, he didn't seem to go anywhere but his workplace up in London or the market. He had no friends aside from co-workers, and no family that he brought with them.

Harry understood that.

The two were familiar with each other because their mails were often mixed up since Harry lived in Number Four Privet Drive, and Mr. Midoriya lived a couple streets down in Number Four Privat Way, so their "good-for-nothing" (Aunt Petunia's words, not his) mailman, an old, balding man of seventy-three, often messed up the two streets.

Whenever that happened, Petunia would send Harry down the streets to switch their mail, and that was common.

The older male started to mutter quickly under his breath, trying to figure out exactly why Harry was on the sidewalk. He couldn't have been here because of the mail, because it was Sunday, there was no post on Sundays. He couldn't be here because it was playtime either, because it was near dinnertime, and there was no way he was out here this late purposefully—

Suddenly Harry let out a loud shudder from the cold that started to reach the marrow of his bones and wrapped his arms around himself to try and keep warm. Hisashi stopped his inconsistent muttering and fell silent, his green eyes growing warm at the sight of the child in front of him. It was a sad sight: one made even sadder with the snow that was falling against stark black strands of hair and a reddening nose. With a quick shut of the car door behind him, the man walked up to his front door and quickly unlocked it, holding the door out.

"Harry-kun," he said, "Harry," he instantly corrected, softly. The young boy looked up with wide eyes and bore those green eyes into the worn-out man's figure. "The snow will get harder. Do you want to come in?"

The child's near-blue lips parted in slight surprise, and he stood, frozen. Hisashi only gave him a wary smile and with a huff, he opened the door wider.

The moment Hisashi closed the door, two pairs of shoes were neatly placed at the entrance.

* * *

After that day, Hisashi returned Harry when the snow settled and waited patiently for Petunia to open the door. With the way her face paled, you would've believed that she had seen a ghost.

She scrambled through the proper pleasantries, giving him thanks and weaving a tale about how her, "nephew loves to sneak out, we were all worried sick!" before returning his awkward bows with even awkwarder, stiff bends. With one more goodbye to Harry, Mr. Midoriya took down the street and around the corner. She roughly pulled Harry in by the hair, and shouted at him before she grabbed both of his biceps with a bony grip and shook him.

"You insufferable boy! Why did you give Mr. Midoriya trouble?!" she demanded, giving Harry a good slap against the side of his head. "When we let you outside, we expect you to keep out of everyone's way!"

"B-But Mr. Midoriya was the one who invited me in and he said that I was a good kid!" Harry tried to protest, flinching when his aunt raised another hand. "H-he said that he wouldn't mind babysitting me again! J-Just ask him!"

His words fell to deaf ears when his aunt continued to relentlessly scold him.

But soon, she would have to heed his words. June was slowly approaching, and Dudley was already screeching and demanding for celebrations for his "Birthmonth." When he found out that Uncle Vernon wouldn't be able to make it back in time from work to go out on an outing every day of the week, Dudley threw a fit and destroyed the couch with his Quirk. Petunia was quick to promise that they would take him out every weekend, everywhere he wanted to go, and that quieted him up real quick.

However, Mrs. Figg had to visit some relatives for the entire month, Aunt Marge was going to go to out of the country for vacation, and there was no way the Dursleys were leaving Harry alone in their humble home. Suddenly, that prospect that Hisashi gave them sounded a whole lot better, so the Dursleys dropped Harry off at his doorstep and never looked back.

That was how Hisashi Midoriya became the unofficial babysitter of the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

Hisashi was slightly aloof and wasn't very expressive, but once someone dug to the very basics of Mr. Midoriya's character, one could see that he was a bit timid and shy, sometimes he would overreact when met with a scare, and he would break into a flustered smile and jittery nature when that little old lady next door gave him some extra cake. He mumbled a lot, maybe a bit too much and too often.

He didn't like to turn on the heater, and complained in both languages that it cost too much money, so he liked to blow fire into the fireplace and let the heat around the modest house grow that way.

When he asked Harry about his Quirk, the boy shook his head and said that he didn't have one.

Instead of pity or ridicule, Mr. Midoriya quickly apologized for prying, and changed the subject right away. He never brought it up again, and never treated Harry like he held a burden, nor a fragile object either.

He had never been more glad about the man's awkwardness.

* * *

Hisashi, Harry learned early on, was not a good cook. He often fed Harry miso soup or grilled salmon, the very basics of his skills.

Even though Harry wasn't a chooser, and was more than thankful for the man feeding him, (Mr. Midoriya did twice the job that the Dursleys did), the same old dried piece of salmon and mushy rice was enough to make Harry feel sick after a while.

Soon, even Harry had enough of the man burning something like instant curry on the stove, and pulled up a step stool to take the reins. A little while after, Harry was soon making small meals that could make even the inexpressive Hisashi gush over his cooking skills.

Blushing from the praise, Harry thought that he didn't like cooking when he was being forced to by the Dursleys, but for Mr. Midoriya, he didn't mind.

* * *

Unknowingly, he introduced Harry to Japanese culture.

He called him "Harry-kun" out of habit, and eventually Mr. Midoriya stopped correcting himself, and Harry just took it in stride. Mr. Midoriya taught Harry how to use chopsticks, to hold the bowl to his face when he ate, he got Harry his own pair of bathroom slippers, and soon Harry started to unconsciously copy the man's habit of bowing. Sometimes the older male would slurp so loudly that it would be enough to give Aunt Petunia a heart attack, so he knew how to separate the two cultures.

When Mr. Midoriya wasn't busy on the weekends, he would take Harry to the library and they would learn English together.

One day, Harry had finished all of his novels, and it was almost time to leave so he didn't go up and get another. Since Mr. Midoriya was in the bathroom, Harry sat at their usual table, alone and slightly bored. He had finished his homework, and all of his books were returned to their proper spot in the shelves. The only thing on the table was a Japanese to English dictionary, some basic grammar books, and scattered papers with sentence examples or quick tests scribbled on them. Mr. Midoriya liked to take notes, so a thin composition notebook was open up to a page that was half written in.

Hoping that his babysitter didn't mind, Harry reached out to grab the Japanese to English dictionary, and he quickly scanned through the contents, keeping a thumb in place to bookmark Mr. Midoriya's page. He caught some characters and words, mumbling the pronunciation to himself and admiring the way they looked.

A sudden hand on his shoulders made the young boy jolt in his chair, and the voice leaned in to ask:

"Would you like to learn, Harry-kun?"

* * *

Harry decided that he liked Mr. Midoriya.

Or, maybe, Harry was just craving for some sort of normalcy in his life, craving some kind of adult figure that didn't lash out at him if he messed up the dishes because he couldn't reach the properly, or for missing a spot when he swept.

Even without a power, a Quirk, Harry's life was anything but normal.

Maybe it was a bit too selfish to think this, but Mr. Midoriya fed him, he was the one to buy Harry a new sweater when he found that his current one was ratty and torn, and he taught Harry what he needed to know.

He was the one that Harry brought his report card to, and the one that Harry made a card for on Father's Day. When Harry was sliced with a knife from another classmate trying to show off, Harry immediately told the teachers to call Mr. Midoriya. While Hisashi awkwardly and reluctantly accepted all of these actions, he never outright refused Harry either. It was a bit disheartening at first, but as soon as the man realized that he unintentionally hurt Harry in some way, he was quick to smile and pat his head. Without more hesitation, he'd make it up to Harry in some way.

It didn't help that Mr. Midoriya had dark hair and green eyes much like Harry's own. It was only their Asian and Western features that split them apart from family, but it was close enough for him.

Mr. Midoriya was family, and no one could tell him otherwise.

* * *

"I have a son, you know, back in Japan. His name is Izuku Midoriya," Mr. Midoriya suddenly said, eyes focused on the small fire in front of them. Harry's head suddenly lifted from the fluffy blanket that Mr. Midoriya had given him and his wide green eyes stared at the man's side profile.

It was a heavy downpour, the hardest that they had seen all year, yet the Dursleys were out of town to visit some distant relatives that they had been gossiping about not even moments before they left the house. With them gone and no one else to watch him, they pushed Harry off to Mr. Midoriya's house.

The power was knocked out for the entire block, and that included all of the heating and cooling systems. However, Mr. Midoriya had a nice Quirk of being able to breathe small amounts of fire from his mouth and quickly set up the fireplace. Soon, the two settled into a comfortable silence of just sitting in front of the warm flames and settling their eyes on the orange flames.

That was, until Mr. Midoriya spoke up—and Mr. Midoriya never talked about his life in Japan. Sure, it came up every now and then—it had to if he wanted Harry to learn the language and the culture, but he had never talked about himself, his family there.

Mr. Midoriya seemingly ignored Harry's shocked face and continued to stare at the flames in front of him. "He is about your age," the man said, almost as an afterthought.

Nine-year-old Harry got out of his shock and stuttered back to reality. The blanket around him tightened.

"Do you miss your family?" the boy eventually asked, voice soft, because he knew that if Petunia was away from Dudley for this long, his aunt would weep enough for a river. Then, he asked, "Do you want to see them again?"

Something shined over the older man's darker green eyes, and for a moment he held an expression that Harry couldn't read. For a while, the only sounds that could be heard was the crackling of the fire, the patter of the rain against the roofs and windows, and the drips from the leak in the ceiling.

"No…" Hisashi eventually said, making Harry's head rise. The man turned to face Harry's surprised expression and gave him a smile that was almost wistful. "It must be hard for you to hear that, Harry-kun, but you will understand when you are older."

"Understand what?" Harry asked, wide-eyed and insistent. He didn't get it, he was sure that Mr. Midoriya missed his family, so why wouldn't he see them? "But I can understand now!"

"Can you, Harry?" the man chuckled, taking his hand out of the folds of his soft fleece blanket to pat Harry's head. Large green eyes looked up at him.

"Of course I can!" the young boy said with as much ferocity in his words as a child could muster.

That hand dropped, and the crackles of the flames seem to grow louder.

Mr. Midoriya's eyes dropped to the ground and a small brush of fire escaped from his lips as he sighed.

"I love my son," Hisashi eventually said. Then, once more, more forcefully he repeated it, almost as if he tried to convince himself. "I love my son." He turned to Harry and looked at the boy, and he turned thoughtful. His darker green eyes reflected the grey light from the window behind Harry.

"But I chose my job and not a life with him, so…" the man paused, unsure of how to go about this, "I do not think that I should be able to come back. At this point, he's probably all grown up; I do not want to complicate his life."

A small gasp left Harry's lips and he widened his eyes once more.

"But that doesn't mean that it's too late, Mr. Midoriya—!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing, Mr. Midoriya choosing to not see his family? Why would he even think that way? How could a man not want to see his son? For an orphan like him, struggling without true relatives, the whole thing was shocking and mind boggling. It almost shattered the perfect image that he had of Mr. Midoriya.

"I got mail back from my wife," Mr. Midoriya said, cutting Harry off. The man leaned back and looked up at the white ceiling. "She sent back the money I send her every five months. I think she had enough of my distance and…" Before he could finish, he drifted off with an expression that Harry couldn't read. Eventually Mr. Midoriya looked back at Harry who was hanging off every word as if it was a lifeline. Harry closed his lips and frowned softly. It was obvious that the man was trying to be as vague as possible, and Harry was trying too hard to connect the dots. A soft smile appeared on Hisashi's lips and he patted Harry on the shoulder.

"It's getting late, Harry-kun, let me walk you back to the Dursleys."

* * *

Harry didn't have a Quirk.

He couldn't see in the dark, stretch himself out, or phase through solid objects like some of his classmates, but that didn't mean that strange things didn't happen to him either.

When another nasty game of "Harry Hunting" happened, Harry somehow found himself on top of the school's roof, but he had no memory of him climbing up whatsoever.

His teacher's wig once turned blue, and even though that was blamed on a mischievous boy who could change the color of anything, Harry just knew that it was him. He had _felt_ that it was him.

Harry once shrunk a sweater down to the size of a doll's, he had grown his bangs back after one night, and most of all, he had managed to vanish the glass of the zoo's boa constrictor.

Not long after his eleventh birthday, Harry was whisked away by Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, and so he believed that even though he didn't have a Quirk, he had something better.

That was five years ago.

Now, in the summer during late July, Harry Potter's eyes flashed wide open as he let out another loud gasp in the night.

"Sirius!" he cried out.


	2. Chapter One

Hedwig flapped her wings wildly behind her bars, squawking loudly and swinging her cage.

Harry sat up in bed, the threadbare sheet pooled around his hips and his shirt and skin was soaked with sweat.

He ran his hand through his matted hair and clenched his eyes shut.

The fight at the Ministry, Voldemort, Bellatrix blasting Sirius into the veil; _another nightmare_. The Boy-Who-Lived slowly turned his head to his snowy white owl, and widened his green eyes as she was still creating a ruckus to get him to notice her, or maybe to try and comfort him somehow.

Immediately, Harry threw the blanket off his legs and leapt off of his bed, crossing the small room to get to Hedwig.

"Shh, shh, Hedwig!" Harry whispered softly, but firmly to try and soothe his owl, "It's okay, I just had another nightmare! Careful, the Dursleys might hear you…!" The flaps of her wings slowed, but she still clicked her beak at him. Wide golden eyes stared back at him and Harry smiled wistfully as Hedwig leaned on the bars to nip at his fingers. When she hopped back on her tiny perch, Harry reached past the bars to stroke her soft feathers, and she nudged her head against his palm. Harry sighed once more and thanked Merlin that his aunt and uncle weren't stirring from the noise.

Harry walked back to his bedside table and put on his glasses. With a glance at the clock, Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the time.

It wasn't even 9:30PM yet, and Harry had fallen asleep when the clock just hit nine. In less than thirty minutes, he had suffered from another tough nightmare. A groan emitted from his lips and he put his face into his hands, causing Hedwig to click her beak at him again.

Harry stayed like that for a while, trying to quell his headache and the pain that had fallen in his stomach before the ache in his chest took over his breathing.

 _I miss Sirius_ … he thought, his expression twisting behind his hands. In an attempt to make himself feel better he bitterly thought, _But at least I'm not having any more nightmares about Cedric_.

Letting out another shuddering breath, Harry tried to collect his thoughts.

Eventually, he decided that he should go out for a run to clear his head, or go to the ice cream shop in the town centre. _Something_ to get his mind off of his nightmares. Getting up out of bed, Harry quickly changed his clothes to the confusion of Hedwig and left with a quiet, "I'm going for a run, I'll be right back, Hedwig."

Harry laced up his ratty shoes and as carefully as possible, slipped out of Number Four Privet Drive. When he slowly closed the door behind him, the cold air of the night hit his bare arms and covered them with goosebumps immediately. Carefully scanning the sidewalk, he wondered if any of his "bodyguards" were here, waiting for him, but he couldn't see anyone, and he couldn't sense anyone around, but he decided to be as sneaky as possible. Harry huffed from the air and started to make his way down the sidewalk.

As he was two steps down a familiar block, a wash of immediate deja vu rained upon him when he was lit by headlights belonging to a familiar white Ford model. Harry stood there, just like he had years ago, and waited to the car to slowly pull up on the driveway before stuttering to a stop. A flash of nostalgia ripped through Harry's veins as this image played before him.

"Harry!" that voice said once more, clambering outside the car. "It's late! What are you doing here?"

 _Just like how he had asked years ago._

"...I had a nightmare," Harry honestly answered Mr. Midoriya. "So I wanted to go for a walk."

The older man took in his answer with a soft "Ah," before he leaned on his car door with papers in his hands. It looked like he was thinking for a while, but after several seconds of silence between them, the man spoke. "It's been awhile since I've seen you, Harry-kun," Hisashi said.

"...It has," the wizard could only manage to say lamely. In these past five years, he could probably count the number of times he's seen Mr. Midoriya on one hand. When he realized just how rude he's been, staring at the man blankly while holding him out here in the cold, Harry quickly snapped back into reality. "A-A lot has happened these past few years! Er—I can come visit you tomorrow, if you can—and we can catch up."

"Ah, but I have another shift tomorrow afternoon…" Mr. Midoriya mumbled half to himself, half to Harry.

The man thought for a while, but then he turned to Harry as if a lightbulb went off in his head and he smiled. "How about we talk now? I can drive the both of us to London to get some ice cream!"

"London?" Harry gasped. "But, Mr. Midoriya, you just drove from there, and that's too far!"

Hisashi waved off Harry's worries with a hand and that bright smile appeared on his face again, wiping away years from his face. "It's no problem, it's a Friday night, and my house has been lonely without you visiting often."

Harry's cheeks lit up from embarrassment, and from what he saw, Mr. Midoriya was still smiling, almost sneakily. If his plan was to guilt Harry into getting ice cream with him, then he succeeded.

"Alright…" Harry slowly said, still hesitant, but eager to spend some time with Hisashi. The man beamed in reply.

"Great!"

* * *

The car ride to London was relaxing, almost as if all of those years they've been apart never existed.

Harry and Hisashi easily caught up with simple questions about Harry's school life, and the wizard easily talked about the teachers he had and the friends he misses every summer, all while omitting magic in the conversation. Harry said that he was in the sports team, he joined the school's tournament and won first place, and he started a club; all not lies, but not complete truths either.

The man asked if Harry could still speak Japanese, and Harry quickly nodded, adding in the fact that, "Everyone always gets really surprised! Even Hermione!"

Hisashi admitted that his life was the same old, same old, and nothing really changed for him except for, "I'm glad that you're finally enjoying school, Harry-kun!"

While that was far from the truth now, Harry couldn't help but smile at the man that helped raise him.

With another turn, Hisashi entered the city limits.

* * *

With cups of ice cream in hand, the two exited the ice cream parlor at the same time, and stepped into the sidewalk. Mr. Midoriya immediately gestured to a small outdoor table just outside of the shop and the two sat down together in comfortable silence.

Golden lights spilled from the street lamps and white lights shone from the storefronts that fought against the darkness of the night. Gentle chatter and a cool breeze surrounded them, and Harry looked around at the young adults going out with their friends, the dates, and businessmen going out for a drink. For a summer's Friday night like this, it was picturesque, almost carefree.

He started to dig into his ice cream some more, but just when his spoon scraped bottom of his paper cup, the wizard noticed something strange, causing a frown to appear on his lips and for his eyebrows to knit together. The melted ice cream that pooled at the bottom was shaking.

Ripples that started out in the liquid soon grown into full on tremors on the cobblestone ground. Soon, everyone around him started to notice, and the murmurs became louder and more panicked. Short shrieks of shock appeared and disappeared as soon as they came. _An earthquake?_ Harry thought, even as the entire ground started to vibrate. He spun around to see people starting to get up and run past him.

"Harry-kun," Mr. Midoriya said in a panic, "We should—!"

The loudest bloodcurdling scream rang throughout the street. Harry gasped as he whirled his head towards the source and his heart started to beat faster.

"Run!" someone cried, their voice muffled in the flurry. " _Run away_!"

On Harry's right, the upper floor of a two-storey building was suddenly swatted away as easily as children's building blocks. The pipes inside the red brick building broke and fire burst into the scene, filling the streets with a burning light. The screams got louder, and the pounding of feet against the cement was harder. Harry's eyes widened with horror when he caught sight of the villain.

They were hopelessly dwarfed. The villain must've had some kind of mutation Quirk or a form of gigantification—they had to be at least thirty meters tall, and Harry really didn't want to know what the real measurement was. The figure was male, taller than a majority of the buildings in the area by one overly large head, and taller and fiercer than Grawp.

Somehow the wizard had found himself standing with the crowd, gaping and stunned at the sight of this villain shouting threats and roaring in their wake.

"Call for the heroes!" someone beside him shouted, already on the go as he pulled on his girlfriend's sleeve.

"Where are they?!"

By his side, Mr. Midoriya cursed under his breath. "Out of all the days—!" The man helplessly tugged on Harry's sleeve to get away from this situation, but Harry was frozen in his spot. The villain destroyed some more buildings and got closer, the crowd of people holding up their phones to take pictures, video-tape, and call for help screamed and dispersed like a sea of ants. "Come on, Harry-kun!"

The wizard could only turn to his old babysitter, mouth opening and closing like a fish as his green eyes darted from the danger ahead and the man behind him. He turned his head once more, lingering on the look on the man's face before ripping it back towards the danger. By this time only a handful of people remained, him included. The fire had grown close enough for the sparks to graze his cheeks and for the wind to pick up on the ends of his hair. The light of the fire around them reflected on Mr. Midoriya's face, highlighting his eyes with nothing but worry and fear.

"I—" Harry made one pathetic step towards Hisashi.

"Harry, please! You can get seriously hurt!" Mr. Midoriya voice was pleading.

The sirens could be heard from far away and the familiar female voice started to make the all too familiar announcement on the speakers wired around the streets.

Another step.

But then Harry made one regretful look back at the chaos and his eyes caught with a small girl stuck in the scene.

Harry's legs moved on their own.

* * *

 _"_ _I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me."_

There were no other words that were stuck in Harry's brain then. Harry had unwittingly said that years ago, unaware of how heavy those words truly were, but now he felt the full brunt of them.

This was the worst case scenario, and Harry couldn't believe his own pathetic luck.

Even without a wand, underage, and none of the Order around to save his behind, Harry Potter's "Saving people thing" took form once more. He ran into the fray and lept over discarded, flipped cars and dashed forward.

"Harry!" he heard behind him, but he was too focused to care. Harry pushed his legs to move as fast as he could and he quickly picked up the crying girl. She wailed even harder once she was in her arms, and her eyes were too blurred by tears to fully open, so all Harry could do was spur comforting words and run as fast as he could. All around him were the sounds of fire crackling, asphalt crumbling like frail porcelain, and the screams of people.

But his movements didn't go unseen. Just when he was about to cross the street again, large eyes locked in on his form and thin lips stretched over teeth the size of bricks.

"A hero?" the villain's voice rumbled. That twisted smile grew wider, and the villain sped forward.

Harry almost dropped the girl in his arms if it weren't for the flash of green the appeared in front of him.

A large plume of fire appeared and pushed the villain back with a loud cry of pain.

"Mr. Midoriya?!" Harry cried out, incredulously. "What are you doing here?!" He had thought that the man would've gone to the safe spot with everyone else by now.

"What did you expect me to do?!" the man wheeled in on him, more furious than Harry had ever seen him before. In his anger, the man's accent became thicker and his vowels became more clipped. "You're out of your league, Harry!" Hisashi put both of his hands on Harry and shook the wizard. "You're Quirkless!"

"I—" No, Harry Potter wasn't a helpless little boy like how he led Mr. Midoriya to believe. An image of Ginny spraining her ankle in the Department of Mysteries flashed into his mind, of Luna getting hit with a Stupefy, and finally, of Sirius getting pushed into the veil burned into his brain.

"I have to help!" Harry yelled back with more force in those words than he had felt all summer. Before the man could reply, the villain regained his footing even on singed legs and came back, but twice as furious.

The older male wheeled around again. "What do we do?!" he asked, panicked.

"Dodge!" Harry quickly yelled, eyes wide. The giant tried to swat them with an overly large hand, but the two managed to dive out of the way just in time. Miraculously, the girl that was attached to Harry's hip like a koala managed to fall asleep, or at least pass out from the excitement.

Harry was on one knee, looking up at the enraged giant that loomed over them, and tried to think quickly. He had fought a troll before, but that meant he would have to somehow levitate something large enough and high enough to attempt to knock the giant out, and with no wand, that was impossible. His Holly wand was back at home under lock and key with the Dursleys.

"Harry!" Mr. Midoriya called. Harry turned to the man and took in his ruffled appearance and his tattered business suit. "What we have to do is get you out of here! You're going to hurt yourself!" Harry's heart ached for the man who cared about his safety, but his bull-headed stubbornness wouldn't let him leave from this spot. Not without trying to help as many people as he could.

However, life had other plans.

In that small second that Hisashi had turned around to try and plead with Harry to return to safety once more, the villain attempted another attack. The two of them felt the wind first, and with faster reflexes than Harry had ever seen on the man, Mr. Midoriya wheeled around to face the danger and he pushed Harry out of the way with a strength that he didn't know the man had.

Harry landed on his back several feet away, but the giant's hand rammed into Hisashi at full force, and sent the man flying into a building. Hisashi's back hit the brick walls, and he fell forward with a sickening crack.

The Gryffindor felt his blood run cold.

Green eyes slowly widened to the size of plates.

 _No...No, no, no…!_

" _No!_ " Harry shouted until his voice was hoarse. " _Mr. Midoriya!_ "

"Back off! Quick!" a voice suddenly shouted, and Harry whirled around to see the appearance of three heroes, buying him enough time to back off from another attack. One hero threw a giant punch at the villain until he was knocked back on his bottom.

 _Where were they, where were they just one second ago?!_ Harry pleaded, his heart beating as his hair on the back of his neck raised.

"Damn! We were held up by a blockade and a riot!" one of the heroes cursed. He turned to Harry worriedly. "Are you hurt, kid?!"

"No…" Harry could only whisper pathetically.

"Firefly!" the blond hero that was previously talking to Harry called out to the other hero. "Quick! Take this girl and return her to her parents! There should be a medic car in the safe zone by now!"

"Got it!" the hero—Firefly—took the girl from Harry's arms and instantly dashed off before Harry could blink.

"Someone from HQ, call Janet! The one with the shrinking Quirk!" the hero said into his earpiece.

The blond hero turned to Harry again after sending a large stream of water at the villain. "Go get that man and get out of here!" He gestured to the Mr. Midoriya's figure and Harry had to remind himself how to walk on his numb legs before he could nod dumbly and run off as if his life depended on it.

"Mr. Midoriya!" Harry cried out weakly, diving behind two discarded cars where the man was tossed like a rag doll. Then his eyes grew blurry.

Blood.

Blood pooled out of the back of Hisashi like a river and Harry wanted to lose the contents of his stomach. What had happened? Harry had just wanted to take a walk to shake off his nightmare, how did this happen?

He just wanted to spend some time with his old babysitter, the only man in his childhood that actually cared about the clothes he was wearing or fed him. Who hated him, up in the fates above to take away two of his father figures in one year? He pathetically fell to his knees beside the man and Hisashi lifted weak green eyes up at Harry.

"Mr. Midoriya!" Harry called out, on the verge of sobbing pathetically. The knees of his pants were getting soaked with blood and the palms of his hands were getting numb from the warm blood and the way they were pressed against the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault!"

Pain twisted at Harry's stomach, and his eyes blurred over from the wetness. His heart pounded faster than clock could count.

"Harry-kun…" the man weakly said, eyes becoming unfocused and pale. He looked up at the bleak night sky. A shuddering breath left his lips. "I'm not mad…" Those eyes looked back at him again.

"But Mr. Midoriya…" Harry finally let out a sob as tears finally streamed down his cheeks. " _You're dying…!_ "

"Don't worry about it, alright?" the man muttered softly, taking the tone that he did years ago, back when Harry was still a small child. "I'm just glad that you're okay…"

Harry's crying became harder, sobbing pitifully as he leaned over the dying body of Hisashi. Even as tragic as he was, Harry knew it too. No Quirk, no form of magic, and no miracle would ever be able to save Hisashi now. His skin was become paler and his breathing raspier, the hand that Harry held in his own was losing its warmth.

"...But can I ask you for one thing?" the man asked, words coming out as firm as they could be in this state. Almost as if this was going to be his last words.

"Anything," Harry sobbed out. Tucked away in their own little corner, hidden by everyone, it was almost as if nothing else was going on.

"...In my desk drawer on the left, I have a letter...I'm only here on a work visa, and I don't have a will...Would it be too selfish to ask you to give it to my son in Japan…? His name is Izuku Midoriya."

"I'll do it," Harry whimpered pathetically, leaning his head down to listen to the dying heartbeat of Hisashi's. "Anything, anything…!"

" _Thank you…"_ the man whispered in Japanese. Turning his eyes back up to the sky, those dark green hues became even duller than before. "...You've grown into a different man than the six-year-old I picked up years ago…So I'm just happy that I was able to see you grow up."

"Goodbye..." Hisashi breathed gently, "Harry-kun..."

By the time the night made its peak, the heroes managed to subdue the villain. Right after they looked around for victims and on their last body count they came across a fifteen-year-old cradling the body of the late Mr. Midoriya crying hard enough to fill any river.


	3. Chapter Two

The front door to the Dursley's home burst open at seven in the morning the next day. Before the white wood could even slam against the patterned wall, a silent Harry Potter speedily darted through the house. An irate Petunia poked her head out from the kitchen, ready to chew out her nephew for ruining the silence of her beautiful Saturday morning, but at the sight of Harry's expression and the blood, dirt, and ash that marred his face and clothes, the woman could only let her jaw hang helplessly.

Harry paid the woman no mind as he dashed up the stairs and into his bedroom. At the sight of him Hedwig started to screech loudly in her cage again, ruffling up her feathers with worry, but Harry could only give her a short, "I'll explain later, Hedwig," before he moved on autopilot.

Harry heaved his trunk onto his creaky bed, ripping it open so that his brooms, cauldrons, parchment and quills, and such were in open view. He dashed off to his closet, grabbing the little clothes that he had in one big embrace before dropping the lot into his magically enlarged trunk. He took everything with him, anything that he could possibly fit: the Marauder's Map, the Invisibility Cloak, spell books, everything from the loose floorboards on the ground to the corner of his closet. In less than thirty minutes, Harry managed to clean up the entire room and fit it into his trunk or have it bundled in his arms.

"Come on, Hedwig," Harry said gently, yet firmly as he grabbed the handle of her owl cage and started to make his way down the halls. Hedwig, who could only manage to follow Harry's movements with her head the entire time, could only manage to hoot softly at her owner, worried about his strange behavior.

The trunk beat down the stairs with every step, and when he finally made it down to the last floor, he turned his body towards the kitchen. However he stayed beyond the alcove, silent. Petunia had her back facing him, but she tensed as if she felt his bright green eyes on her back.

"What is it?" she finally asked, the rags in her hands under a death grip until her knuckles were white. "Are you finally going to explain yourself? Sneaking away at night—coming back in those rags, all bloody... _they_ better not put any of the blame on—!"

Mr. Midoriya is dead," Harry blurted out, his voice betraying him. That silenced his aunt immediately. All of the hardness and color left Petunia's face, and the more she stared aghast at Harry's forced expression, the better she saw the tiredness on his face and the red rims on his waterlines.

" _Well…_ " she whispered, almost as if all of the breath was taken from her. "Well then…" she had to repeat to herself before looking back up at Harry. She pursed her lips and visibly swallowed. "I'm sorry." Her words sounded forced, but she didn't sound insincere. The towels in her hand wrung themselves again. She turned her blue eyes back down to their tiled floors and she ran her tongue quickly due to the tense situation. "But I don't know what this has to do with me—the neighborhood gossips would have alerted me sooner or later—"

"I'm going to be leaving," Harry eventually said, "and the wards…" He wasn't quite sure how they worked since learning about wards was Hermione's strong suit, not his, but he knew that wards can work with agreements. "I just need the both of us to agree that I'm leaving out of my own free will. The wards will stay, and none of my kind will come and bother you." _And the Order won't be alerted when I suddenly disappear_ , he silently thought to himself.

Her hand was nearly bone white by now.

"And _they_ won't know that you're missing…?" Petunia asked, her tone hardening when she spat out the word, "they."

Harry nodded. "As long as you let me leave willingly, and that I leave willingly."

"Are you going to come back?" Petunia asked. Something flashed in her eyes, but it was too quick for Harry to read.

Harry stopped, so he just said what was on his mind.

"Er—I'm not sure yet, but I'll be out of your hair all summer. You don't have to give me any money or watch over me in any way." His voice was firm, and he watched carefully for any sign in his aunt's eyes.

"Alright then." Petunia threw the towels down on the countertops and turned to face him fully. "But if anything happens to you, I hope your kind knows that you're not my responsibility anymore. You can go."

For all of the cruelty that Petunia had given Harry throughout his years, they seemed to thin out in this moment. Once Petunia let Harry go, out of sympathy or empathy to chase whatever it was that Harry was going after, an emotion appeared in her eyes.

Something buzzed on Harry's fingertips and he nodded. "Thank you," he felt like saying, but didn't add on more than that. Without another word, he turned and wheeled his belongings out the door and never looked back.

* * *

Harry made it down the street swiftly. Turning corners and moving down blocks, even if he went at a snail's pace, he would've made it to Mr. Midoriya's house in minutes either way. He stopped at the doorstep, feeling empty already because that familiar sight of the white Chevy was missing from the doorstep.

Breathing slowly, Harry took the hairpin from his pants pockets and took a careful scan around the neighborhood. Luckily no one was around, and when he realized this the Gryffindor crouched down and picked the lock as swiftly as he could.

In three minutes, he heard the familiar click of the lock and let out a quiet exhale of success. He pushed the door open and heaved Hedwig's cage and his trunk in first before closing the door behind him again.

"You can be let out in here," Harry said to Hedwig as he opened her cage. The snowy owl hopped out tentatively before experimentally fluffed up her feathers and stretched her wings. As Hedwig was taking test flights from one end of the room to the other, Harry let his eyes roam over Mr. Midoriya's house.

It really hasn't changed at all in the past few years.

Harry saw the used, but plush couch placed right where he remembered it. Every stain on the carpet was the same, the curtains were still that dark forest green. It was almost as if he hasn't aged a year since he was six.

Swallowing, Harry pushed his legs to move up the stairs, heaving one knee up every time as every step he took felt heavier than the last. By the time he had reached the second floor, a bead of sweat had already dripped down his temple. Hedwig hooted and he heard the sound of wings in flight before she landed on his shoulder. Harry gave her glance with soft eyes and raised his fingers for her to nip gently. Feeling his spirits rise just a bit, Harry walked to Hisashi's office, knowing that the man's bedroom held nothing but a bed, one shelf, and his closet.

Carefully crossing the empty space in the spare room, Harry took a knee beside Hisashi's wooden desk, noticing that the top was still littered with open-faced notebooks and spare papers; almost as if the owner was still up and moving. Harry forced his head to turn back to the drawer as Hedwig hopped off his shoulder and started to survey the room. It was locked as well, but Harry managed to get it open by picking the lock again.

Inside the drawer was several envelopes, and Harry noted that it was mostly bills and checks on the top, but buried underneath that were several papers. His green eyes widened and he pulled the drawer out completely, turning it over and spilling the contents on the carpeted floor. Harry grabbed at every spare paper that was in the pile, and with wide eyes he noticed that a majority of them weren't even finished. They were written in Japanese, but the handwriting was sprawling and messy compared to the usual calligraphic style that Mr. Midoriya tried to teach Harry. Most of the letters had entire paragraphs crossed out, sentences scribbled out, smudged ink, or stopped midway.

 _He must have been rushing or nervous if his handwriting ended up like this_ … Harry thought to himself, looking at the papers back and front.

Harry looked at the pile once more, leafing through business letters and such, until his hands finally stopped at a folded piece of paper.

Opening the paper slowly, Harry noticed that this letter went all the way to the bottom of the sheet. Looking at the top of the letter, Harry read the kanji characters of "green," "valley," "coming out," and "long ago," and knew right away that this was for Izuku Midoriya: Hisashi's real son.

Harry folded the paper again before he could read further. He had seen enough for Mr. Midoriya's rough drafts, and if this was the real deal, then he had no place to intrude on their private business.

The Gryffindor stood up again and grabbed the rough drafts and the final letter, and tucked them into a notebook in the schoolbag that he had slung over his shoulder. He cleaned up the rest of the envelopes and put them neatly back into the drawer in the desk.

Without much more thought, Harry decided that if he was going to seek out Hisashi's family, then he might as well bring them back some of his personal belongings. Without a will or a true form of citizenship, Harry might as well save the bank and his family some trouble and take as many things as possible. He crossed the hallway and entered the bedroom. He pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The room was cold.

It certainly didn't feel cold, at least not a summer day like this, but it looked cold. Almost as if there was no warmth in the bedsheets, no color in the walls, and the air was devoid of any form of comfort. Everything seemed pale, as if it had frosted over.

In that moment in time he had never felt more glad of his Occlumency lessons, as near-useless as they were against Voldemort. Harry was able to take what he had learned and blanked his mind enough to force his body to get to work after letting out a shaky breath. Harry started with the shelf, pulling out some of Mr. Midoriya's favorite books and old notebooks that he used to learn English. Then he cleaned out the drawer in his closet and neatly packed away some of the man's watches, an old pair of glasses that he barely used, cufflinks, and moved on to clothing.

As Harry moved on autopilot, he reached up to grab some of the objects on the top shelf of the closet and accidentally dropped a weathered cardboard box, nearly missing him by half a feet as it landed by his side.

A soft curse escaped his lips and he immediately bent down to pick it up. However, at closer inspection, Harry realized that this box was all of his stuff.

The blood in his body ran like ice.

All of the report cards that young Harry decided to share with Mr. Midoriya, Father's Day cards, random arts and crafts that they made all the kids do. Mr. Midoriya kept several sets of spare clothes for when Harry had to stay over, and even some new clothes were thrown in the mix, something that would have fit him better than anything the Dursleys ever gave him.

It was as if an anvil had landed on his shoulders, and the full weight of Mr. Midoriya's death finally hit him.

Harry had managed to block it out for the past few hours. From the moment they collected his body, asked Harry questions, had given Harry a bus ticket all the way from London back to Surrey, Harry was a professional at ignoring what was in front of him, but sitting here, with Mr. Midoriya's belongings, seeing how much Mr. Midoriya cared, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

Mr. Midoriya was dead.

Dead, and so any chance of going to the man's house, or to the library to study English was a faraway dream. Every memory Harry had seemed like a lifetime ago.

The inside of his chest was fiery hot, burning and cursing, but from the tips of his fingers, edges of his ears to his toes, Harry was nothing but cold.

Harry fell to his knees, and before he knew it his eyes were blurring over with thick, hot tears. A hoot sounded in his ear and he looked over to see Hedwig standing beside his fetal body, wide amber eyes glowing with worry. Without thinking, Harry reached over and scooped Hedwig into a hug, and she accepted the tight hold from her familiar, comforting him as she bumped her head against his cheek and as he cried into her feathers.

Soft sobs filled the room and Harry's eyes burned terribly.

"He's dead…! Mr. Midoriya and Sirius...They're never coming back…!" Harry wept. "They're both dead!"

Mr. Midoriya was different from Sirius though. He wasn't a wizard, and he wasn't tied up in Voldemort's and Dumbledore's plan. He was just a simple businessman who showed a poor boy some kindness, and saved him just as easily. He was Harry's childhood, Sirius was Harry's adolescence. Losing Mr. Midoriya was like losing a father, and by losing both him and Sirius in such a short amount of time from each other, this fact made him weep as hard as any child.

Harry didn't know how much time passed after that. Minutes, seconds, and hours blurred together into one big unity, but soon enough Harry was able to notice the sun dipping lower in the sky. By this time his nose and eyes were strained and red, but he had cried everything out. Harry leaned back to give Hedwig some space as she stood on his knee and he lifted up his glasses to wipe his eyes. His owl hopped closer and chirped soothingly in his ear like a mother, and he sniffled happily. A small smile broke on his face despite how red and tear-streaked it was.

He leaned in and patted her feathers softly.

"At least I'll always have you, right, Hedwig?"

Harry's smile could only grow wider when Hedwig fluffed up her feathers and clicked her beak in reply.

* * *

Harry waited until night to move. Up until then he managed to finish up packing everything of Mr. Midoriya's that he wanted to bring and organize his belongings in his trunk better. He then borrowed Hisashi's shower and changed into some dark wizard robes that can be confused for a muggle's long jacket. He had opened the windows for Hedwig and told her that he would be in Japan come tomorrow, watching as Hedwig nipped his fingers in reply and took flight. Inwardly preparing himself for what he was about to do, Harry firmly placed a navy blue baseball cap over his unruly hair and walked out to the street with the Cloak of Invisibility shielding him from whatever Order member that was watching him that day. The Boy-Who-Lived walked a good distance away from Number Four and made his way to the park.

Making sure that there was no one in sight, and no cars about to pass by, he threw off the cloak, held his breath, and raised his wand in the air.

The purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of him with a loud bang not even a second later, and taking a deep breath, he told Stan to take him to Diagon Alley.

After the horrifying ride of twists, turns, speeding, and smash-my-face-against-the-window moments, Harry managed to stumble out of the bus on shaky legs, and held himself against the Leaky Cauldron's back walls, holding in the contents of his churned stomach. After he regained his footing, Harry slipped into the Leaky Cauldron and into the magical Diagon Alley.

Harry continuously looked behind him for anyone that might catch him in his half-hearted disguise, but eventually made his way up Gringott's grand stone steps and let out an easy breath when he saw that it was near empty. He walked up to the nearest goblin and placed his key down after adjusting his hat once more.

"I'd like to withdraw some money from my vault—and then convert it to muggle money," Harry quickly said, dropping his voice low. The goblin only slowly looked up at him after he finished scribbling down on his parchment and raised a wispy eyebrow.

"How much…?" the goblin said in a raspy voice.

"Enough to last me a year," Harry said short, but firm, "and I'd like to convert some of it to 11,000,000 yen—the Japanese currency."

If the goblin thought that his request was strange, he didn't say anything.

* * *

Harry went down the alley from then on. He moved with a purpose in an attempt to shake off the reminder that Sirius left him everything after his death, and tried to hold his head a bit higher. He picked up owl treats for Hedwig, potions in case he got hurt or sick, a handy spell book meant for travelers, and then finally, his last stop at Knockturn Alley.

With his head lowered, Harry made his steps low and purposeful, dodging hunched-over stragglers on the sides of the streets and ignoring calls out to him. Lifting his head just enough for one green eye to peek up, Harry caught a sight of the store sign that he was looking for and quickened his speed.

The door creaked when he gave it a firm push, and the dust inside instantly swirled around the dark store. Harry stepped in with one foot after the other and let his eyes roam his surroundings.

He had heard of this place in his third year when he overheard some seventh-year Slytherins talking about how they were planning a vacation to America over the summer, and this place was the easiest to find that sold untraceable Portkeys.

The store was no bigger than the Dursleys' living room, and as he stood in the very middle of the store, with every stretch or lunge over, Harry could reach every moldy shelf along the dark walls. There was no light except for the three candles that were lit, or the light stolen from the street lamps outside, but the glass on the windows were so foggy that it barely counted. Up in front was a small counter place built by old wood and streaky glass, displaying all kinds of strange objects, but he wasn't there for that.

Harry walked up to the front and before the middle-aged shopkeeper could react, he spilled Sickles and Galleons on the counter. "A portkey, please," he impatiently demanded, his voice flat.

The shopkeeper looked up at a snail's pace, like he hadn't noticed Harry before or as if he was surprised by Harry's presence. The man blinked groggily, revealing glassy eyes and Harry swallowed. "To where?" he asked in a wheezy, chain smoker voice.

"Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan," Harry quickly said, and then, almost as if he forgot, he blurted out the small town that he remembered as Izuku Midoriya's birthplace.

The man let out a cough that stirred up more dust. He leaned back to go grab something under the counter. In the beam of light that hit him, Harry saw that the man had tan skin littered with age spots, and white wispy hair that stood up in patches.

"Then you're going to need five Portkeys," the man slowly explained, putting down five random pieces of junk in front of Harry in a neat line. Harry saw a weathered, old boot, an old soup can, a crumpled Daily Prophet article, a broken watch, and an empty bottle of ink.

"Five Portkeys?" Harry echoed with a furrow of his eyebrow. "What's what for?"

"My Portkeys are undetectable by the Ministry, son," the shopkeeper explained, "but the longer the distance the easier it is to trace, if we break it down...then they won't be able to find the magical signature. Also...since you're going to another country…" he was interrupted by another coughing fit.

Harry breathed out of his nose.

"I'll take it."

The shopkeeper gave him a creepy, toothy smile.

"Then I'll get it for you right away."

Harry used all of his willpower to hold back the shudder that ran down his spine.

* * *

Harry stepped out of Knockturn Alley and tried to shake off the coldness that the area gave him. He let out a shudder before blinking and looking at the near-empty streets. With a drifting thought, Harry realized that this was the first time that he's ever been here this late.

The lit lanterns spilled soft light on the cobblestone streets, and most of the stores were darkened. Only a handful still had their lights on and even then Harry could see the "Closed" sign on their doors and their workers shuffling in the windows. The Gryffindor turned his head back and forth, deciding on whether to grab a quick dinner first or go get himself a small ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour before it closed. As his green eyes roamed the streets, they landed on a large, lit building, and those eyes widened to the side of plates when he read the unfinished sign.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Unconsciously, Harry walked forward to get a better look at the twin's new store, and the moment he read the unlit sign of "U-No-Poo," and Harry smiled widely at the thought of the twins turning something so taboo into something like this. He held a fist up to his mouth to muffle the laughter that tried to escape from his smile and he quickly leaned in closer to the window to catch a closer look at the inside of the store.

His eyes were lit with stars at the sight of orange shelves and boxes upon boxes of—

A hand landed on his shoulder. "Impatient to see the show, aren't we? 'Fraid you're going to have to wait for our super grand opening like—"

Harry gasped and whirled around with an expression that couldn't be anything but shock. George let out a restrained gasp of his own and instantly clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder again, but this time it was in an iron grip. "Well then," George said in a peppy tone, "I guess we can make some exception for one of our biggest fans." The Weasley twin led Harry into the store and the moment he threw Harry in, George locked the door behind them just as fast.

"Fred!" George called, "We have a special guest!"

Harry's jaw dropped at the sight of the unfinished joke shop, and he slowly spun around with a large smile on his face. The shop was still filled with moving boxes and littered objects here and there, but there was no doubt that this bright store was going to be anything but great.

"This place is incredible!" Harry said to both twins the moment they landed in front of him.

"We couldn't have done it without you," Fred said cheerfully, pulling up a chair and turning it around to sit on it. "You came earlier than expected, if we had known we would've put together a little something for you." With the glint in Fred's eye, Harry was almost afraid to know what it was.

"Shouldn't you be with those terrible muggles though?" George said next. "Bit too early for Headmaster to pick you up, isn't it?"

A sheepish smile appeared on Harry's face and he could only give them a lackluster shrug. "Actually…"

The twins connected the dots and shared the same expression with either other.

"Don't tell me…"

"...You ditched your guard?"

Harry's open expression of guilt told them everything they needed to know. The next thing he knew, Harry was being smothered by two arms thrown around both shoulders as both twins squeezed him in a tight grip.

"There's the rebellious streak! Now you're thinking like a true trickster!"

"Looking forward to a night on the town, aren't you?" George said as he gave Harry a weak noogie. Harry clenched his eyes shut at the feeling of knuckles running against his scalp and messing up his hair even further.

"Get off me!" Harry cried out, but there was no malice in his words.

"We're both so proud!" the twins cried as Harry threw them off.

Harry's chest heaved after the short scuffle, and his hair stood up like he had just gotten out of a storm. However, after the twins showed encouragement for just what he was about to do, Harry couldn't bring himself to smile.

"Actually…" Harry looked down at his scuffed sneakers. He looked up again and stared both twins with a determined look. "I'm going to be leaving for a while."

Both of the grins from the twin's faces slowly melted away.

"To where?"

"And for how long?" they immediately asked.

Harry averted their eyes. "...Japan," he eventually whispered, "but I can't be more specific than that. And for how long…? I…I guess for the entire summer—" The words got caught in Harry's throat and he had to stop himself.

A small voice in the back of his head said, _You idiot. You're lying to yourself, if you were only going to be gone for the entire summer, you wouldn't have gotten a year's worth of money_.

It seemed like the twins caught on his lie too and Harry craned his neck to look up at them again.

"I-I really want to come back for my sixth year—!" he tried to interject with a wave of his hand an an ashamed tone.

"Harry, you don't have to explain yourself," George said, his voice strangely serious, yet understanding.

"Yeah," Fred said and patted Harry's shoulder comfortingly, "what happened at the Ministry and to Sirius was pretty tough—"

At the sound of his godfather's name, Harry's eyes grew wide for a second again, and they flashed with sudden depression. The twins caught on on Harry's change of mood and pulled faces.

"Sorry—" they both tried to say.

"It's not just that," Harry whispered, his nails dug into his palms. Harry looked up again and threw his hat to the side. "Can I tell you two something?"

"Why—"

"—Anything at all."

Harry sat on empty boxes and slumped forward. Slowly, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was going to do. In the strongest voice that he could muster, Harry told them about what happened in London the other day, what happened to Mr. Midoriya, and summarized how important the muggle man was to Harry before telling them about the quest he left for the wizard.

Towards the end of Harry's story, the twins shared another look together, and in an instant, Fred got up and walked out of the store with his keys and his pouch.

Harry didn't pay Fred's departure any mind even though he thought it was strange, and just looked George in the eye.

"So that's why I wanted to leave… I can trust that you'll tell Ron and Hermione, right?" Harry asked.

George returned the thought with an encouraging smile as he stood up. "You can trust the messaging to us, Harry," George said. He looked down at Harry with a sad smile. "And I'm sorry about what happened to your babysitter, mate."

"I…" Harry just sighed. "It's alright."

George walked to the side of the store and started to clear away some boxes. Even so, Harry knew that he was listening and continued to talk.

"It's just that...It was different, you know?" Harry tried to explain. "Cedric and Sirius...Their deaths were _quick_. Mr. Midoriya—he died in my arms..." Harry's tone died out towards the end of the story into a mere whisper and he slumped forward like a dying flower.

George turned his head to peek at Harry beyond a large towers of boxes.

"...I'm surprised that you can even get out of bed in the morning, Harry," George said honestly. Harry could see the man shake his head in the corner of his eye. "Seeing that...That must be traumatic for anyone—" George accidentally cut himself off by letting a pile drop to the floor like wooden blocks and the red-head cursed loudly. The crash helped to pull Harry out of his thoughts and he turned his head towards the Weasley.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Harry asked, tilting his head at George's behavior.

"We—"

Fred returned with a large paper bag in his arms and he closed the door behind him. "—Are going to prepare you for your journey."

"Huh?!" Harry asked with surprise Fred and George dumped the shopping bag and a box in front of him.

"You're going to Japan aren't you?" Fred asked.

"Don't you know how the Wizarding Community works there?" George said next, with just as much enthusiasm as his twin. The two worked together to get Harry's mind off of his former solemness, and tried to distract him by talking as much as possible.

Harry could only gape at the two. His head turned back and forth as the two twins started a long explanation that Harry had difficulty keeping up with.

"Ever since the arrival of Quirks, their entire Wizarding Community went through an big upheaval," George said, his voice lighting up.

"It's so strange, Japan has one of the most uptight Ministries in the world, but they're really relaxed about using magic in the public eye—"

"—More than us anyway—"

"—And since the age of using magic out of school is thirteen there—"

The two twins came together. "You're a free man!" Reflected smiles stared back at Harry's dropped jaw.

"But what about the Trace?" Harry insisted, leaning closer as he was being fed all of this information. Usually one doesn't learn about other magical countries until late sixth year or seventh year, and other than what he learned during his fourth year from the transfer students, Harry was completely clueless.

One of the twins held a finger to his smirk. "But the thing is, since the ages of using magic are different, your Trace only applies to the countries you are in."

"Usually it's a whole bunch of international paperwork and permission from the countries to travel, but since Japan became so relaxed with their magic, as long as you lay low, no one will hunt you down. And since it's another country, the MoM won't be able to catch you!" George spread his arms and finger, and he smiled as if he told Harry of a good deal.

"But I don't get it," Harry said, "what about the Statute of Secrecy? Aren't they worried?"

"You can still get prosecuted for using magic in front of muggles—Just last week a guy went to jail for selling a mirror that talked back—But if you use magic, and you can pass it off as one of those Quirks...the Japanese Ministry will look the other way…!" Fred said, a wicked smile appearing on his face. "It's brilliant isn't it? Dad's been wanting to go to Japan for a while now—"

"Just to use magic freely and interact with those muggles—"

"But we've never had the money or time." Fred shrugged. The twins looked back at Harry to see how well he was taking this information. Harry looked as if they had just broke him.

"I-It's just so hard to believe…!" Harry said, almost to himself.

"Yeah, they're really strict with their rules, but the bridge between magic and Quirks are the only thing that they let loose. However, one slip-up can lead to a whole lifetime in jail," George said. "That's why so many wizards don't even bother using magic in front of muggles, so you should be careful."

Harry nodded, closing his jaw. "I will. Is there anything else I should know?" The twins shared a mental conversation when they realized that they got Harry to move on from the past subject.

"There's our boy!" Fred said with a nudge to Harry's shoulder.

"Always eager to know more!" Harry let out a gasp at the impact of their hands slapping his back.

Fred leaned in closer. "Then you should know that even with that one muggle hero guy—Uhh, what's his name, George?"

"I dunno, Mighty Man or something?" George replied with a casual shrug.

"The villains in Japan are in a smaller count, but supposedly stronger," Fred said, "at least that's what the professors told us."

"And knowing you—" George poked Harry in the chest. "—our dear Harry, you're going to run into some danger."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he said sarcastically, "but I don't do it on purpose!"

The twins just grinned in return. "That's why we got you everything possible to help you."

Fred gestured to the paper bag at their feet. "We got you two new wand holsters—" Fred held up the two leather strap devices. "—One for your shin, and one for your forearm."

The twins invaded Harry's personal space even further by leaning in even more.

"The one for your shin is easier to handle and to hide, but Aurors all use the forearm one," George said, gesturing to his limbs. He took the forearm one from Fred's hand and demonstrated how to strap it on. "Tonks even said that you can still use magic with the forearm one even if the wand isn't in your hand!"

"What?" Harry gasped, eyes wide. "That can't be possible!" His mind churned with imaginary, future lectures from Hermione and the new possibilities.

"Apparently if you go through the same wand movements with your arm instead of your wrist, then the spell should work just fine." Fred waved his hand. "But barely anyone uses it because the control is off and there's always the possibility of hitting your own hand, but it's becoming more popular apparently!"

"Tonks can't manage the control at all, and Mad-Eye says that it's impractical, but it might work well for you," George said, dropping both of the wand holsters into Harry's lap. Harry looked at it as if George had just dropped a pile of gold into Harry's lap and stared.

"We also got you the books needed for the sixth year—" Fred continued, reaching into the bag to take out all of the heavy, leather-bound books.

"—Not saying that you won't make it back in time—" George said, almost teasingly.

"But don't you think that they make for some good light reading?" Fred smirked. "Sixth year is when the fun starts. Strong potions, powerful hexes, and Apparition…" He listed them off, lifting up each book for each subject at the mention of them.

These were dropped into Harry's lap as well and a huff left Harry's lips at the weight of all of them.

"And we got you a new, magically enlarged bag too—"

"To replace the shabby one on your shoulder right now."

Harry was too busy in awe to care about the jab that they gave him. Harry lifted up each book slowly, admiring every smooth cover and scanning the titles.

"And one more thing," George said. Harry gasped and dropped the books.

"There's more?!" Harry asked, incredulous.

Fred gestured to the small box beside Harry's feet. It was bright orange with a large 'W' written across the top, tiny enough to fit on Harry's flattened hand.

"This, my boy," George said, tapping the box with his wand as Harry stared at it with star-struck eyes, "is everything Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has to offer."

A gasp escaped Harry's lips and he looked up at the twins, surprised for what could be the fifth time that night.

" _What_?"

"Skiving Snackboxes, Extendable Ears, Portable Swamps, every Explosive Enterprise, Love Potion, all of our sweets, and many more!" the twins listed off.

Harry shook his head and tried to push the box back to the twins. "I can't accept this! All of this has to be incredibly expensive!"

"You don't pay here," Fred said. "You gave us our start-up loan, don't think that we forgot." Fred gave Harry a wink. "But if you ever run across another wizard, and they ask where you got all of this stuff, send them our way, will ya?"

"But that holsters, and the books!" Harry tried to insist. "How did you even get half of this stuff?"

"We're Diagon Alley shopkeepers now, and all of the shopkeepers stick together."

"We might have also promised them some discounts, and that you'll send out a good name for them." George said cheerfully.

"I—" Harry attempted to say.

"Harry, if you don't accept this stuff, we'll throw it out," Fred said seriously. "Either you take it or it's going in the trash."

"So?" George asked, a big grin appearing on his face. "What do you say?"

Harry remained silent for a while, and turned his head down to look at his lap. He slowly opened the box and pulled out a Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder stone.

"I say..." Harry rolled the stone between his fingers. He looked up with a smile. "You guys...are the best."

* * *

Once the new morning came, Harry Potter found himself standing on Japanese soil.


	4. Chapter Three

The Portkey managed to take him to a forest just outside of Hisashi's hometown.

 _At least I know that I wasn't scammed_ **,** Harry thought warily, crumpling the aluminum can in his hand before he dropped the Portkey inside his bag to toss later. He stepped forward on legs that felt like jello. After five trips by Portkey across two continents, his stomach churned like the crystal balls in Divination class, and he fell from great heights enough times to feel as if he had just stepped out of a wrestling ring. Harry lurched forward and held a hand against a tree as his head pounded.

 _Later,_ he told himself mentally, _I'll throw up later._ Heaving himself forward, he picked up his trunk and his bag that was strewn around him. He was just lucky that he managed to strap everything together so his trunk didn't fly open and that Hedwig wasn't with him. He was sure that the owl wouldn't appreciate Portkey more than he did, but he did feel bad about asking his owl to travel all the way to him.

 _I'll make it up to her somehow_ , he said, straightening up. Slowly, he stepped out of the forest and into the town.

* * *

By the seventh day, Hedwig arrived, tired, but otherwise perfectly fine.

Until that time, Harry managed to drag his large trunk around before checking himself into a quaint little inn towards the center of the town, run by a little cute old lady that instantly interrogated him as to what, "A cute little boy is doing here all alone?"

Harry felt bad about doing it, but he spun up a tall tale about how his guardian just died, (There! Not technically a lie.) and so he was in Japan to look for his "cousin." Tears practically fell from her eyes and Harry felt guilty for lying so blatantly to an old woman. She immediately invited him to have meals with her, and from then on, she would knock on his door and invite him out to meet up with her friends at the park while they pinched Harry's cheeks, fed him traditional sweets, tried to get him to meet their granddaughters, or gushed about how he spoke Japanese so well.

The first week felt like a vacation.

Harry didn't even know where to start when it came to looking for a person, so most of the time he had that week was idle.

He spent a day looking through the library's phone books, but was left with another dead end. Harry flipped through the spell books that he brought with him and found nothing useful that would help him. He even thought about making "Have you seen me?" posters and putting them around town, but then he realized that all he had was a name; no picture, exact age, height, or appearance. The missing persons poster would be completely useless.

Right when he was collapsed in his futon trying to brainstorm ways to find the son, he heard the familiar tap of a beak against his window, and he was up in a heartbeat.

Harry pulled the door open for Hedwig in an instant, and she tiredly fluttered to his futon to rest.

"Hedwig!" he cried out, shutting the window. He noticed a small package tied to her foot, but he ignored it for now as he moved to the corner of his room. "Here—" He reached an arm into his school bag and pulled out a bag of owl treats and her bowl. He grabbed a water bottle with one hand and poured Hedwig a drink, placing it beside his owl. Harry pet her gently and whispered apologies as she lapped up her treats and water, but she eventually hopped over to him and stuck her leg out for him to untie the package. His eyes widened at the sight of two familiar signatures on the brown paper.

"You visited Ron and Hermione before you left?" the wizard asked, surprise marring his tone. Hedwig only clicked his beak in reply before hopping onto his lap and leaned into his torso to rest. A sad smile appeared on his lips and he patted her once more.

Moving quickly, Harry ripped open the packaging paper, and a mirror the size of his palm instantly dropped onto the tatami map. A gasp escaped his lips, he swiped the mirror off the floor and held it with disbelieving eyes. A note was attached to the mirror in Hermione's neat handwriting as one of the twin's.

 _Another gift from us,_ the twins wrote. _You can thank us later._

 _Where would they even get a two-way mirror?_ Harry asked himself, but he decided to ignore it for now and moved his eyes down to Hermione's note.

 _Harry,_ it read, _when you get this, call us_ _immediately_ _!_

A wince appeared on his face and he grimaced. He just knew that he was in for a chewing out from Hermione. But at least that confirmed his suspicions, this really was another two-way mirror. Unconsciously, Harry turned his head towards his trunk, where his godfather's two-way mirror currently sat, stuffed in old socks.

Clearing his throat and preparing himself for the upcoming scolding, he looked back at his reflection before calling out, "Hermione! Ron!"

Mere minutes passed before the surface rippled and his reflection was replaced with two worried faces.

"Harry!"

A relieved sigh left his lips for the first time in weeks.

"Hermione, Ron, is it good to see you!" Harry instantly said, a smile breaking out on his face from the sight of his two best friends.

"Harry, Fred and George told us what happened—" Hermione tried to start out, but was interrupted by a nudge and the mirror shifted to fully show Ron.

"Nevermind that for now! Harry," Ron said, "Dumbledore came to pick you up today!"

" _What?_ " Three images of shocked faces were shared. Harry completely forgot! He was so caught up with Mr. Midoriya and his grief that he didn't even remember that Dumbledore was supposed to pick him up around his birthdate. Ron nodded, his face scrunched with worry and slight fear. "What did Dumbledore—" His words failed Harry, "What did he do?!"

"We're not sure—" Ron said, and the mirror was turned back to Hermione.

"He came to the Burrow this morning, apparently when he came to your aunt's house and you weren't there, he immediately came here," the witch explained.

Ron shared a grimace. "They used a charm around the kitchen so we couldn't overhear… He thought that you were with us, since you weren't with your aunt...Mum was almost inconsolable…"

"How did Dumbledore…" Harry shifted slightly, trying not to disturb Hedwig. "How did Dumbledore react…?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other before looking back at Harry.

"Mate, we're not sure…" Ron said. "We tried to go downstairs for a peak, but his back was turned towards us."

"He didn't seem angry though," Ron said in an attempt to console the obviously fidgety Harry after the redhead saw his best friend's expression. "We saw only a bit of his face when he was walking out the door, and he seemed…" Ron paused to search for the right word. He looked at Harry right in the eye. "Anxious?"

"Uneasy?" Hermione supplied right after.

"He certainly seemed upset…" Ron said.

"But not because of your actions exactly!" Hermione waved her hand, trying to console Harry who was growing more distressed by the second. "He seemed upset because…" She averted her eyes to the side before looking into Harry's own. "He looked as if he disappointed you somehow."

"Huh?" Harry lamely blurted out. He inwardly cringed at how dumb he sounded, almost on Crabbe and Goyle level. "Me?"

"Well, it was certainly that," Ron commented on Hermione's statement. "Who else would it be?"

His lips opened and closed like a fish's before he swallowed. "What happens now?" Harry asked, voice unsteady.

"We don't know," Hermione said honestly. "It's too early to tell, but with Voldemort—"

Ron flinched because of the name, but Harry flinched for a whole different reason. For his responsibility that he throwing behind him.

"Sorry," Hermione said, her lips falling into a frown, "but—"

Harry's eyes fell back down to his lap and Hermione fell silent.

"Mate." Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. "We're coming to Japan with you." This made Harry's head jump back up in with a gasp. "Just tell us where you are. We won't be able to use Floo or Portkey, but 'Mione's been telling me about the—um, the arrow-plane that muggles use—"

" _Airplane_ , Ron."

"Yeah, er—"

Harry blinked. "You guys—you guys would come with me?"

"Of course!" the witch said.

A brave, "We've been following you for the past five years," came from Ron.

His heart warmed from these words of support from his friends and a sad smile fell on his face. "Sorry," Harry said softly. "I wasn't thinking much when I wanted to go to Japan. If I waited for a little while longer, I would've asked you guys to come with me—"

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Harry," Ron said, trying to keep Harry from falling down that pit of depression once more.

"Yeah," Hermione said, then her smile fell. "Harry, Fred and George told us about your babysitter too...We—" Hermione's mouth opened and closed. "We're so sorry about what happened to him." Hermione's eyes misted over when she said this.

Harry's shoulders visibly slumped and the lips of his shoulders fell. He crossed his legs on the tatami mat and the three of them fell silent for a while.

"I'll be back," Harry eventually said, firmly. "I'm not sure when, or how long it will take me...but I'll be back to England one day. I'll try to make it back in time for my sixth year but...even if I don't—" Harry could only helplessly shrug. "I-It's kind of a personal thing too, so I feel like I should try to tackle this myself—and I don't want to trouble you two—!"

"Harry," Ron said firmly, "We can understand if it's a personal thing…"

"But just know that you'll never trouble us," Hermione finished, almost scolding him. She took one look at Harry's expression and pressed her lips together exasperatedly. They understood that Harry wanted to do this alone. "We'll try to help in any way that we can, alright? Just...take it easy over there, Harry."

Ron nodded. "Treat it like a vacation. Merlin knows you need it."

Hermione and Ron both turned to look at the door. Ron paled visibly.

"Mum's calling us."

"Harry," Hermione said, "try to call us every chance you get, okay? We'll try to pick up, but—"

"Mum's already been on our case all afternoon." Ron had a flash of fear appear before his face. "She thinks that we're going to be runaways anytime now."

Harry nodded. "I understand." He turned his head towards the sun dipping below the horizon. "It's getting late here anyway, I should make sure Hedwig gets some real rest."

"Alright! Stay out of trouble!" Hermione remind, getting up.

"We'll talk again as soon as possible," Harry assured.

"Talk to you later, Harry!" Ron said. Finally, the mirror's surface swirled before it was replaced with Harry's own reflection again.

Right when the image reverted back to normal, Hedwig blinked her amber eyes wide open and Harry sent her a soft smile with a pat on her head.

"I feel a lot better now," Harry said, "Are you feeling better?"

Hedwig hooted and bumped her head against his palm. He laughed and carried Hedwig off before turning in for the night.

* * *

Harry stayed there for two months.

His time in Hisashi's hometown was more of an integration into society than anything. Right after the first week passed, Harry slowly started to lose that feel of "vacation" and he actively started to accept the Japanese way of life, and put himself out there as someone staying there long term, as unconventional as it was.

Harry tried new food, went sightseeing, and tried out the onsen that the people around him always talked about. He felt guilty at times, but Hermione and Ron was always there to assure him that he needed this break. Harry needed to clear his head somehow, and they encouraged him to enjoy himself while he was away from You-Know-Who.

As always, it was difficult moving into a new place, especially with one an entire continent away from his home, but Mr. Midoriya taught him well, and everything that Mr. Midoriya missed, the old innkeeper taught him. Harry was even surprised that it wasn't _harder_. Harry didn't speak Japanese with anyone else other than Mr. Midoriya, and he hasn't even used it for the past six years.

The only odd account was when Oliver Wood pulled out a Japanese wizarding newspaper about their national Quidditch team, and the Quidditch-fanatic was about to pull out his wand for a translation charm until Harry picked it up and read it on his own.

Harry's never seen the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team look so stupefied all at once.

Yet, Harry was able to converse with everyone normally, and the only thing that gave away his fluency was the slight accent that he had in his words. Although, according to the old ladies that he was forced to meet, they said that the accent was "very attractive," and "It would help you win a lot of girls!"

Harry didn't give up on his goal though. Every time he went out to buy supplies or groceries, he would attempt to ask the cashier ringing him up if they knew a Midoriya Hisashi, but it was always a dead end. Despite this being Mr. Midoryia's hometown, it was almost as if the man never existed.

When Harry wasn't out and about or asking about the whereabouts of the Midoriya family, he was practicing his magic.

He was hesitant for long, but when he tried to take Hedwig's owl perch out of his trunk, he accidentally punctured the tatami mat in his room's living room, and the wizard freaked. Harry had immediately pulled his wand out for a quick Reparo, but flinched right after when that long running instinct of the Ministry going after him took over. When Harry realized that no letters, no messages or personnel from the Ministry was coming to get him, Harry wanted to experiment some more.

He tested out random spells in his hotel room after it covered it in some privacy or muggle-repelling charms. After breaking a teacup, repairing it, then breaking it again, transfiguring some pens into birds, or changing the colors of his socks, Harry Potter made it official.

Fred and George were utterly right: he can use magic here after all.

Harry instantly dug into his sixth year books, practicing small charms that might come in handy in the long run or familiarizing himself with some of the more daring Defense Against the Dark Arts spells. Harry also tried to use the wand holster for his forearm, and the twins were right once again. Harry's control was horrible in the holster.

He missed his targets by at least a meter and the spells were so weak that it wouldn't even hurt a fly.

However, Harry felt like the use of the wand in the holster would come in handy when it came to Death Eaters, or even Voldemort himself, in moments of limited time, so Harry forced himself to get better at it. He went deep into the forest with Hedwig in tow at times and practiced firing Stupefy and Expelliarmus at target dummies that he conjured up.

These movements took him back to last year's Dumbledore's Army practices, and with these memories on top of the ones from the Department of Mysteries, he pushed himself harder every time.

His birthday also passed by, unforgotten by his best friends.

They had planned beforehand and mailed Harry his gifts the muggle way, and it arrived right on his birthday. When the old lady at the inn noticed that he was receiving parcels, she asked him about it right away, and he sheepishly told her that it was his birthday. She looked betrayed by the fact that he didn't tell her sooner, but was quick to make a large dinner for him, and to tell her friends about it. Throughout the week, he had old ladies knock on his door to deliver cakes, mochis, and other traditional desserts.

Through calls on the two-way mirror, Harry learned that Fleur was engaged to Bill, and that Dumbledore was being silent for the time being: there wasn't knowing what the headmaster was going to do. Mrs. Weasley was on their case, so Harry would have to wait until school started for them to be able to talk freely. According to the two, both Fleur and Mrs. Weasley were distraught about Harry's disappearance.

Between searching, practicing, encountering new things, and talking with Ron and Hermione when he was able to, these past two months went by as quick as a good night's sleep.

* * *

It was the first of September, so Harry wasn't able to talk to Ron or Hermione all day.

Harry went through a sort of depressed mood that day, feeling like he was betraying his friends and the castle for skipping out on the first day of school; something that he has been looking forward to every year.

Hedwig tried to cheer him up by showing him all of the game that she caught and the old ladies tried to cheer him up by inviting him out to eat with them, but Harry turned down the invites in favor of staying in his hotel room to do some reading.

A thought passed his mind while he was here.

Maybe he really was making a mistake, skipping out on school. He thought all everything that he could have missed, and maybe that Izuku Midoriya could wait until after Harry's seventh year to learn that his father was dead, but right after that thought, Harry furiously shook his head. No, he told himself, a promise was a promise, and Mr. Midoriya was relying on him for this.

When nighttime hit, Harry dragged himself to a nearby ramen stand for some dinner before turning in for bed the next day.

As Harry watched the noodles swirl around the broth, he barely noticed the old ramen stand owner place a plate of gyoza beside him. Harry only looked up when he heard the click of the ceramic plate against the wooden table.

"Oh, I didn't order this," Harry gently said, looking up at the stand owner. The aging man turned back to making new bowls for the two teenage girls that sat at the other end of the stand, but he glanced back at Harry.

"It's on the house," the owner said, waving away the teenager's worries. He placed two steamy bowls in front of the two girls and they took out their phones for a picture. The owner turned back to Harry and leaned against the counter. "You looked troubled, so I thought that some gyoza would cheer you up." The man smiled, and his wrinkles created creases around his eyes.

Harry blinked. "I...I do?" The man waved a hand and began to wipe down the counter.

"You teenagers think that you can hide everything, but I'm old enough to know better."

"I…" Harry looked back down at his broth. "I guess I am…" The owner hummed in response. Harry looked up at the shop owner again. "Sir," Harry asked politely, "can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away, boy." He turned back to stirring ramen.

"Do you know a Midoriya Hisashi?" Harry questioned, thinking that it wouldn't hurt to ask. Yet he was expecting another plain answer like from every other employee that he questioned before. The man blinked and paused to think for a while.

"Midoriya Hisashi...Midoriya Hisashi…" the man mumbled. Then he perked up like a lightbulb went off in his head. "I do!" he man answered. "He used to come by here after school!" The man leaned over the counter slightly to gesture towards the direction of the aforementioned school.

Harry's heart skipped a beat and he dropped his spoon into his soup. He lurched and his heart started to work double time. Goosebumps raised on his arms and Harry couldn't believe his luck.

"You do?!" Harry gasped, a bit louder than necessary. The man simply nodded and hummed again.

"He used to bring his friends by here, then that one girl, Inko, I think," the owner continued.

"I-I'm looking for his son, o-or his family!" Harry said, his body thrumming with excitement. "Do you know where they are?!"

The man paid no mind to Harry's strange behavior before shaking his head. "No, sorry," the owner said. "Hisashi went abroad to work years ago—"

Harry already knew this.

"And his wife and son moved several years later—"

Harry's heart almost dropped to his stomach and his shoulders slumped at yet another lost cause.

"—to Musutafu near Tokyo."

Harry's eyes widened at this information and before the man could react, Harry downed the rest of his ramen and slammed the money on the counter. The Boy-Who-Lived dashed off with a loud thanks and ran back to his inn to tell his owl the news.

In less than a week, Harry was packed again, and he lugged his trunk across the town once more.

* * *

 _It's all so confusing_ , Harry helplessly thought. _Why is it so confusing?_

The teenager stood in the train station, a large trunk beside him, and an overly large bag stuffed with food by his feet, given to him as a goodbye gift from the old ladies that he'd grown fond of. Harry had let Hedwig out earlier so that the muggles wouldn't stare at him strangely for having an owl, and he knew that Hedwig wouldn't appreciate being locked in a giant metal contraption for who knows how long, but right now Harry wished that he had her with him. All around him, people from every walk of life passed by him without paying the lost teen another thought. The high-pitched voice from the speakers announced the times and destinations every other minute, and Harry desperately hoped that he didn't miss his.

He stood off to a wall, standing in front of a large map that drew out all of the train lines and stations and destinations that he could possibly need, but every color bled into each other and there were enough lines to make his head spin around.

Harry was doing well so far, but then the train pamphlet and map said that in order to get to Musutafu he had to take one train, get off, go down three flights of stairs, get on the next train, go outside, and go to the nearest station—

Steam was practically coming out of Harry's ears by now from his brain attempting to keep up with the winding paths on the map.

 _I wish that Hermione was here_ , he thought desperately. _She would know what train to take_. Not only that, but apparently different companies owned different lines, so he had to get multiple tickets—?

"Do you need any help?" a pleasant voice asked from behind his shoulder. Harry slowly turned around and blinked at the man in front of him. The man had short black hair and wide black eyes to match. He was dressed in an oversized trench coat over a formal button up suit and tie, and he he had a tan hat to match. He was dressed very stiffly, but he had a nice smile.

"Oh! Yes, please," Harry said, looking at the man like he was a savior. He wasn't usually this desperate, but looking at this map made his head hurt, and he need to get to the city soon, or else Hedwig would arrive before him. "I'm lost, and I need to get to Musutafu, but I don't know how…"

"Ah, really?" the man asked, slightly surprised. "What a coincidence! I'm heading there too, I can lead you there!"

"Really!?" Harry gasped. Then he nodded and bowed. "Thank you so much!" The man smiled gently and asked Harry if he could help with the teenager's bags before he took Harry's trunk for him. He led Harry towards a booth to fill up his card and to get Harry a proper ticket. "I'm Potter Harry," Harry introduced eventually when they stopped in front of the right platform to wait for their train.

"It's nice to meet you, Potter-kun," the man said, holding out a hand for him to shake, "I'm Tsukauchi Naomasa." Harry smiled easily and he firmly shook the man's hand.

Harry didn't know it then, but that simple meeting would change his future forever.

* * *

It's actually really unlike me to update this early, but I've been procrastinating all morning on this chapter, so I hope you enjoy! I also want to thank everyone for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews so far! It's only been one day and there's already a whole bunch of support!


	5. Chapter Four

The train ended up arriving right on time. Not even five minutes after they both arrived at the platform. Naomasa and Harry waited patiently for everyone to leave the train and for the rest of the crowd to enter before they both lugged Harry's large trunk into the train. With Naomasa's help, Harry managed to get his trunk into the compartment above and he slammed the clasp down with a loud snap before taking a seat across the man.

"Where are you from, Potter-kun?" Tsukauchi Naomasa casually asked, trying to make small talk as soon as the train started to move.

"Uh—England," Harry easily answered, "Near London."

"England? That's a far way..." Harry nodded. "Have you been here long?" The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head.

"No, I've only been here for two months," he answered honestly.

A small, "Oh!" escaped from Tsukauchi's lips in surprise. "Your Japanese is very fluent!" he complimented.

Harry's lips colored and he shook his head quickly. "Oh, not at all!" Harry said modestly, smiling and laughing.

"How are you liking Japan so far?" Tsukauchi asked.

"It's a lot of fun! It's very pretty around here," Harry said. _Prettier than Little Whinging at least_ , Harry mentally added.

"That's good!" Naomasa smiled in response. "I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying yourself!"

Harry nodded. "Even though it's almost autumn, it's still really warm around here," the Gryffindor said, eyes wide with slight wonder.

The man laughed cheerfully. "It's warm because you're from England!" The brunette leaned forward. "So, Potter-kun, what brings you to Japan?" Harry opened his mouth but was saved from answering by the soft voice that went off on the speakers ahead. The monotone female voice stated that everything was actually going a little bit better than planned, and they would arrive in Musutafu in less than an hour. Naomasa let out another, "Ah," in response, and to Harry's luck, forgot the last question and changed the subject. "When we go to Musutafu, hold on for a bit, okay? I'll take you to your family."

Harry blinked and became awkward almost right away. "You don't have to do that." Harry insisted. "You've already done so much, and I came here alone, so I just need to get to a hotel…"

"All alone?" Naomasa's voice held surprise and his eyebrows knitted together. "But you look so young!" The man then shook his head so hard that his hat almost tipped over. "How old are you?" he suddenly asked.

Harry's eyes widened slightly at the abrupt question. "Er—sixteen," he answered.

"All the more reason to take you to your destination. I can't let a kid like you walk around at night by yourself! The city is dangerous, even with All Might and other heroes doing patrols, some villains still lurk at night."

Harry's expression twisted and he leaned back slightly. "Really, Tsukauchi-san, it's fine—"

The man shook his head again. "No, I insist. I'm part of the Police Force, please let me help you, it's my job to make sure that the citizens are safe."

"I—" Harry opened his lips to protest more, but seeing the firm look on the detective's face make Harry falter, and eventually sighed and nodded. Tsukauchi looked satisfied and he smiled pleasantly again.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Potter-kun," Tsukauchi said with a pep to his tone; and that's how the remainder of their ride went. The man seemed genuine enough, even when he asked Harry questions that started teetering towards personal, but the boy-wizard guessed that it was just a detective thing that made he man look like he wanted to know Harry's life story when they had barely met several hours ago. Harry carefully danced around anything that got too close to any mention of family or school, and changed the subject multiple times. Harry in turn asked Tsukauchi about life in the Police Force, and learned that the man truly was passionate about his work, and that he has a little sister named Makoto.

When the hour was up, they landed at the new train station in Musutafu and the detective asked Harry to stick around him as he reloaded his card. They shuffled awkwardly around the packed crowd to maneuver Harry's large trunk around the bodies, but they eventually made it to an empty ticket vending machine and Tsukauchi turned away from Harry to fish out his cash from his wallet and refill the card.

Harry stood off to the side near the corner that was almost clear of all people. Green eyes started to drift towards his surroundings of the white tiled floors, the periodic columns, and the advertisements placed along the white walls. His eyes landed on a newspaper rack placed off to the side, and the wizard willed his legs to move closer to it.

Two newspapers for the day were on display through the window, sitting side by side. One of them was titled "All Might Saves The Day Again!" and it showed a black and white picture of a heavily muscular man, with light hair that stood up like two antennas and a smile that would put Gilderoy Lockhart to shame. The other newspaper, however, made his heart leap up into his throat and his blood run like ice.

In black, bold characters were the words, "The Hunt For England's Sirius Black is Over."

Before he could even think, Harry dug his hand into his pants pockets and pulled out several coins. He dropped it into the slot before he threw the lid open and pulled out a copy, flipping it open before his eyes.

The article went on to say that the search for Sirius Black, the "villain" on the loose three years ago, was now over. Harry devoured the words like a starving man, scanning the article and noticing that the Muggle ministry converted everything wizardry into normal, muggle terms. It went on to explain what Sirius was blamed for almost sixteen years ago, where he used his "Quirk" to kill thirteen men and women and was on the run three years ago when he escaped from a "high-security prison." Sirius was branded as a "villain" and a couple professional heroes from Japan were sent over to try and look for Sirius as well.

" _England's government recently released to the public that Black had died three months ago, yet that spurred questions as to why they hid that information for that long. The families of the professional heroes that were on the look for Black showed their disapproval, stating that the truth was prolonged for three months when they could've been home earlier._ "

The drum in Harry's ear started to pound, beating faster and faster. His palms sweat over the paper and his blood ran cold until—

A sudden hand on Harry's shoulder made him jump nearly a feet. Harry whirled around with the urge to pull out his wand, but then stopped himself when he saw that it was only Tsukauchi.

Harry let out a visible sigh that sunk his shoulders. "Tsukauchi-san," Harry said, relief lacing his voice.

The man simply smiled. Whether he took note of Harry's behavior or not, he didn't show it. "Ready to go?"

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded and tucked his newspaper into his hoodie pocket before taking off after the detective.

By the time they got outside, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and now the city was lit by the skyscrapers around them and the light of the stores surrounding the streets. The air was cool and light with the gentle chatter of the people around them. Tsukauchi kept forward, but continuously looked behind him to check up on Harry. He had asked the wizard if he had been into the city before, and Harry shook his head no. As they walked down the streets, Tsukauchi helpfully suggested restaurants or attractions for Harry to see, such as the mall or the amusement park several blocks down.

The continued walking for fourteen more minutes, and Harry admired the lights in the night sky above, the cool breeze on his bare arms, and the comfortable silence that lay between them. Littered along the streets were stores that started to close for the day, and the occasional elderly waved goodnight to Tsukauchi.

Eventually the soft steps paused, and they stopped at the opening of a dark, narrow alleyway. Harry immediately tilted his head at the sight. The alleyway was littered with dirty trash cans, strewn papers, and strange stains covering the brick walls. Light was barely able to pass through, but Harry admitted that this was miles above Knockturn Alley, only more claustrophobic.

"Um, are we supposed to head in there, Tsukauchi-san?" Harry asked. Tsukauchi turned towards Harry.

"Oh! My apologies!" Tsukauchi said. "The hotel I wanted to take you to is through this shortcut here, but I never asked you if you were comfortable with things like this. We can go the other way, if you'd like." Tsukauchi gestured down the long street.

Harry shook his head. "It's fine! I was just surprised. I don't have a problem with things like this." The detective smiled warmly at him.

"Alright then." The man paused to adjust his hat. "You should probably carry your trunk and pull it close. It's a narrow space." Harry nodded and pushed down the handle of his trunk. "Let me help—"

"I got it!"

The two of them dove for Harry's trunk together, with both of them insisting on carrying it. After they realized how silly they were being, they shared a good laugh and came to a compromise. Tsukauchi would carry Harry's shoulder bag and the bag of food, while Harry carried his trunk.

The teenager heaved his trunk up and mentally thanked the weightless charms that were placed on it. Without wasting any more time, the two started to walk down the alleyway. It wasn't very long itself, but the narrowness made it a battle to maneuver through.

The area was crowded with the trashcans and recycling along the sides, and Harry had to partially hug his large trunk to keep from hitting the walls. The sky was lit with light pollution, and so the alleyway seemed darker than the night itself. Harry wasn't scared of the dark by any means, yet even he had that feeling of unease and foreboding here. It was the same intuition that brought Harry to the troll in the dungeon in his first yet, the same one where he went through every trial to get to Quirrel, the creeping feeling of the Basilisk in the walls: it was a sense of danger. A flight-or-fight.

It churned at his stomach, and Harry wondered if he was making it obvious, because Tsukauchi turned around to face him.

"Is something wrong, Potter-kun?" the man asked, pupils blown wide to adjust to the light. Harry quickly shook his head and muttered out a simple excuse of being slightly claustrophobic. "Ah, you should've told me! I would've taken the street." Harry could only muster a lackluster shrug in response. Tsukauchi gave him a exasperated smile and muttered something about "teens."

"It's too late now, but come on, Potter-kun. The faster we move the quicker we get out of here." Tsukauchi caught the expression on Harry's face and his smile grew wider. "You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better," he said teasingly. Harry scoffed good-naturedly and continued to walk forward, jumping ahead of the detective himself.

As the light from the other side became closer, Harry was able to see clearer, but the upcoming sight of a new silhouette made him pause. The figure was skinny, but hunched over, a hood pulled tight over their head. They walked closer and closer, bringing back a familiar feeling that Harry couldn't put his finger on.

His legs were frozen in on the spot, and his throat was locked.

They were ten meters away. Five. Three.

"What's going on, Potter-kun?" the detective asked, giving Harry a gentle nudge. "Let's keep on walking."

"A-Alright," Harry eventually said. The mysterious person was nearly shoulder to shoulder with Harry by now, and Tsukauchi already pushed himself closer to the side to make room, but Harry, the fumbling teen, attempted to pull the trunk closer to himself. Instead, he rammed the side of it right into the stranger.

His head immediately turned around to say a quick sorry, but the next few seconds happened so fast. It was only his Seeker skills that managed to catch a flash of something pale and large fall out of the stranger's pocket from the corner of his green eyes as Harry felt himself falling down. Harry was suddenly on the ground, his brain rattled in his skull from being hit on the brick wall, and a dry and calloused hand was on his throat. Two fingers hovered above his jugular.

"Oh no...! That's no good..." The man suddenly said in a shaky voice, looking as if Harry had physically pained him. "That was Father—You made me drop Father!"

Harry's chest gripped with fear and a sudden jolt of realization. The stranger was almost as skinny as he was, but impossibly strong. The grip on his neck was iron tight despite using only three fingers. Shaggy blue hair drooped over eyes from above, and all Harry could see was pasty, pale skin and the most chapped lips he's ever seen with the skin pulled tight and rips appearing as the man cried out about this "Father" that Harry had no idea about.

The man was suddenly thrown back and Harry was able to breathe easily again. An iron tight grip grabbed Harry's bicep and he was quickly pulled up.

"Tsukauchi-san!" Harry cried, looking at the older male.

The stranger was thrown several meters away, but other than falling, he looked perfectly fine. The blue-haired male reached out and grabbed—Harry's last meal almost rose up in his throat at the sight of the dismembered hand.

Harry slapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

The stranger looked almost desperate and stressed when he snatched that hand back; a sound that could've been mistaken as a weep came to Harry's ears. The man quickly fixed it over his face and stood up again. Mutters slipped past his dry lips and they sounded like fearful apologies, and the wizard couldn't help the goosebumps that raised on his arm. They stopped and the man looked up again with a killing intent that made Harry's heart jump. Past shaggy hair and the thin fingers on his face, Harry saw furious dark red eyes burn into his form.

The detective beside Harry cursed loudly.

"That man is from the League of Villains! Potter-kun! Run!"

Dumbfounded, Harry didn't know anything else to do other than turn around and run. Harry pushed his legs faster, and only looked back once to see Tsukauchi attempt to take on the pale man.

That was his first mistake.

Harry didn't see a sudden black mist appear and before he could stop his legs, he ran right through it. Instead of finally appearing at one end of the alleyway, Harry somehow found himself in between the two men. The pale man's hand reached out menacingly, aimed right at Harry's face the moment he swirled his head around from the sudden confusion and fear.

In a heartbeat, Harry grabbed the bag of food that they had discarded in the middle of the sudden scuffle, and Harry swung it at the man. The plastic bag met with the palm of the man's hand and in less than a second, the bag in his hand was reduced to nothing but dust. However that was enough for Tsukauchi to quickly jump forward and land a punch in the man's stomach.

The villain's soles dug into the ground as he slid several feet back with a gasp until a black figure stood behind him. There was no visible head, limbs, or appendages, but it looked as if a black fog took form of a human and donned a suit.

"Kurogiri," the blue-haired man wheezed. "I didn't call you."

"I apologize, Shigaraki," the black fog seemed to speak. "But you were running late, I was worried that you had gotten into some trouble. I looks like you did."

"I don't need your help to take on some kid and some bastard!" Shigaraki snapped. He pointed a bony finger at Harry. "He made me drop Father...! I'll make him pay..."

"I've been looking into the two of you for a while," Tsukauchi spoke up. He discreetly pushed Harry behind him and he opened his mouth to protest, but a curt look on the detective made him stop. "The League of Villains have been on the Police Force's radar for awhile now, so I have no other option than to take the both of you in."

Harry whipped his head towards the adult so fast that he could've gotten whiplash. The name League of Villains wasn't familiar, but if it was anything that the name suggested then that couldn't be good. He cursed his luck again and questioned how he got into situations like this.

Shigaraki clicked his tongue. "I don't have the time for this."

"Should we call in Nobu?" the black figure suggested.

"No," the blue-haired man said. "I don't need help to take on a little kid. I'll deal with him all myself."

"Shigaraki, if Master finds out that we've caused a commotion—"

"Forget about him...!" the pale man rasped. "I'll finish this up quickly." Harry took a step back at the threat, but he understood the situation now. Harry schooled his expression into a neutral one.

The air in the area tensed for a quick second and—

"Potter-kun! Quick! Go now!"

Harry dashed off in the opposite direction again, but he was prepared this time. He pumped his legs with speed and looked at the light at the end of the alleyway with determination. As expected, Shigaraki took after him while Kurogiri was left to deal with Tsukauchi.

Shigaraki was picking up speed, and Harry waited for the exact moment when the man was just inches away from grabbing his shoulder. Pushing off his right leg, Harry jumped on the brick wall on the side of the alley and leapt over the blue-haired male just seconds away from being disintegrated. From behind the villain, Harry placed a harsh kick on the man's back and sent him tripping over the garbage cans with a crash.

Metal tumbled over and spilled on the floor between the two of them. Shigaraki was left lying among the trash.

Harry's chest rose and fell with the activity that he just did.

 _Looks like all of those Harry Hunting games helped with something after all,_ Harry bitterly thought. He held up one fist and placed his other hand on his wand holster.

Harry's legs remained frozen, but after some quick thinking, he decided that this was the best course of action, even though he was already anticipating Hermione telling him about what an idiot he was.

If Harry ran outside now, and the man really was a villain, then he would have no qualms with being a threat to random civilians.

No, Harry would take him head-on. He was a Gryffindor, and this was what Gryffindors did.

"Ouch…" the man muttered, sounding passive. Harry shifted his stance. Shigaraki placed a hand on the trashcan behind him to help him get up, and the metal instantly disintegrated underneath his fingers. "That stung a bit…"

He rose slowly, bringing a hand up to his neck, and all Harry heard was the sound of nails against dry skin. It made Harry's skin crawl and goosebumps appeared on his arms.

Shigaraki charged first, instantly backing Harry against the wall, and pushed forward. Harry managed to dodge just in time, turning his body more seconds before Shigaraki smacked his hand against the wall. The wall of the building beside his head crumbled.

 _That could've been my head_ , Harry thought, a violent shudder running down his spine.

"Tch," the villain clicked his tongue. The voice was right beside Harry's ear, dropping the temperature in his body.. "Your reflexes are faster than I thought—"

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, ignoring the man and using the moment as an opening, He brought his wand arm forward with the wand and holster tucked in his sleeve. Harry moved as fast as he possibly could, turned his wrist and hit his palm square against Shigaraki chest.

It blasted Shigaraki back a good five meters, but the villain remained standing, Shigaraki finally skid to a stop and bent forward to clutch at his chest and pull at his shirt. He let out a few painful gasps and coughs to clear the feeling of the spell from his chest.

A bead of sweat dripped down the side of Harry's face and the hair on his neck stood up for the first time tonight.

 _A Stupefy at point blank would've been enough to knock someone out for a good day, a couple hours at least_ , Harry worriedly thought, sweat trickled down the side of his face. He unconsciously grabbed his holster and hidden wand underneath his sleeve _. My control can't be that bad. I practiced for two months…!_

"Damn…" Shigaraki muttered, bringing a hand to the disembodied one that covered his face. "That fucking _hurt_."

Then he disappeared.

Harry's green eyes grew impossibly wide in that split second, his jaw dropping to the floor when that man moved almost too fast for Harry to see. All the wizard understood in that small grain of time was that his face was just about to meet with a hand.

The breath in his lungs left immediately and Harry quickly willed his legs to bend and crouch. Tomura was already one step ahead and shifted his weight to place a painful kick right across Harry's face.

Harry's neck snapped back and the boy was sent flying until he hit the wall. The impact made a sickening _crack_ sound, and Harry realized that his head rattled like an empty box and his eyes blurred over as if he was submerged underwater. Once he blinked his eyes back into clarity, Harry saw that the right lens of his glasses were cracked as well, creating a spiderweb down his vision.

Tomura brought his hand forward again and Harry pushed himself to move, dodging and swinging a weak fist. Shigaraki moved out of the way and brought forward an offensive again.

The two were locked in a scuffle.

Harry was out of practice. With no physical fighting training and a concussion to boot, he obviously didn't have the skills to continue on. The best Harry could do was maneuver the villain's hands away using the weak Bombardas that he could only muster at this point. From his lack of control, Harry felt his right wrist starting to scorch from all of the spells that he used. Even then he had a few close calls. Harry's right waist was now cracked with extremely dry and fragile skin from the moment the villain's fingers brushed his side. It turned the fabric of his hoodie into dust from the armpit down, revealing pale skin that was turning brown and cracking, but it would've been worse if it wasn't for the boy's own reflexes.

Harry's vision started to be spotted with black and his chest and legs burned from trying to keep up with the villain physically. His muscles throbbed and his chest rose and fell with every heavy pant that left his lips. Harry stepped forward, and with a final move of desperation, he brought his hand forward for a final attack.

And Shigaraki caught it.

A scream ripped out of Harry's lips and he could hear the faint cry of, "Potter-kun!" from Tsukauchi behind him. The villain gripped Harry's hand tightly, almost crushing it from the sheer force alone, but the man's Quirk chipped at Harry's skin until patches of his red flesh was revealed underneath.

"Agh!" Harry cried out. A thought bounced through his mind about it being his wand hand as well. Without doing any of the wand movements, Harry was stuck.

Harry sunk to his knees as he tried to pull his hand away, but relented every time a new patch of skin disintegrated. Shigaraki moved with him, squatting down to Harry's level when the boy was on the ground.

The faint sound of another body hitting the floor came from the back of Harry's head, but he really couldn't bring himself see if it was Tsukauchi.

The blue-haired man muttered some words that Harry couldn't care to translate. Thoughts moved through Harry's head at a mile a minute, each one more reckless and hopeless than the last, but there was no way that Harry could have his end here. Not after Cedric, Sirius, and not after Voldemort's return. He racked his brain for anything, everything.

Then, his memories brought him back to one spot. When he stood under Quirrel, but burned the man's face with his bare hands.

"You gave me a lot of trouble today..." Shigaraki bent down to whisper in Harry's ear. Harry was only able to hear fragments by now as the man's words dipped highs and lows in volume.

"Trash...Take responsibility _...Hell_ —"

Shigaraki's final word was cut off by a loud slap that woke Harry up.

Harry's hand had moved unconsciously.

In that moment of unawareness, the boy-wizard managed to bring his left hand back and swung it forward fast enough to whip it across the disembodied hand, away from the villain's face.

It hit the floor for the second time that night, and the loud crack of Harry's palm against the disembodied hand rang in their ears.

Shigaraki dropped Harry's hand and the boy looked over with bleary eyes to see in relief that only the skin disintegrated off his palm and around some of his fingers.

 _It didn't reach bone, it didn't reach bone_ , rang through Harry's head like a mantra, dropping his head on the asphalt after the stress left him.

A loud scream reached Harry's ears, but it was soft as a whisper to him as he dipped in and out of consciousness.

" _Father_! I'll kill you! _I'll kill you_!"

"Shigaraki Tomura, calm down!"

Harry's breaths slowed to a soft and low beat, and before he knew it, Harry lost all control and feeling in his body. Through lidded eyes, Harry looked up at the swirling buildings above him. The beats from his eardrums were the only thing left that he could hear and they were slowly being deafened by the second.

Right before he rolled over unconscious, Harry heard the faint sound of boisterous laughter pound in his head.

" _It's fine now! Why? Because I am here!_ "

* * *

 **A/N** :

In case anyone was going to ask about Harry's hand, he's fine because the time that Shigaraki held it wasn't that long, maybe three or four seconds at most, but was drawn out through Harry's point of view. Even though a hand is different from an elbow, I'm taking Aizawa's short fight with the villain as an reference.


	6. Chapter Five

**_Edited 2/6/18_**

* * *

" _...Late...did you...call…"_

" _...Limit...three minutes...U.A...closer…"_

" _...Concussion...broken ribs...hand and side was…"_

" _...Only a boy...fought...League of Villains…"_

" _Tsukauchi-san...name...Potter Harry…"_

" _...What are we going to do…?"_

* * *

Harry finally cracked his eyes open to the sound of loud screeching and a soft scream from fear. His groggy eyes blinked and cleared the blurriness away, and realized that he was looking up at a white ceiling, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and flowers.

 _Am I…in the hospital wing…?_ Harry immediately thought. His head beat irritably with a headache, but he forced himself to peel those eyelids open. He rolled over in his warm cot to see a familiar man in a tan overcoat and a fedora try to wave a flying white blur away. The older man's sleeves slipped down to show tiny cuts on his arms, fresh and pink, with the tiniest trails of blood leaking out. The Gryffindor's eyes widened when he locked in on that white blur.

"Owl," Harry blurted out, his voice raspy. Tsukauchi's eyes widened in surprise and he instantly whirled around. Harry could see from here that the man had a tiny cut on his cheek as well.

"Potter-kun! You're awake—!"

"That's my owl!" Harry gasped out, finally recognizing Hedwig as he pushed himself up on his elbows and put on his glasses (which someone had fixed, he noted). He was almost about to launch himself out of the bed, but then Hedwig stopped trying to fight Tsukauchi and veered her course until she barreled herself into Harry's chest. Harry let out a small gasp from the impact, but instantly wrapped his arms around her form, listening to her nagging chirps and chatters with a fond smile.

"It's good to see you too—I'm alright, Hedwig, look I'm in bed and everything!"

Hedwig was in full Mother Hen mode, and if Harry could understand her language, he would know that Hedwig was giving him a full chewing out. Harry's hands only fell on her soft feathers and began to pat her soothingly. He looked at his right hand and saw that it was swathed in bandages.

Tsukauchi gave Harry a sheepish smile and walked over to Harry's cot to press a small button.

"Your owl is very loyal. She came here shortly after you were admitted here and wouldn't stop tapping the window and screeching." the man explained. "Eventually Present Mic got annoyed and opened the window to shoo her away, but she flew in and—Well, let's just say that Recovery Girl had to heal him afterwards too." The detective laughed.

"Tsukauchi-san," Harry asked, ignoring the story just for now. He dove his right hand underneath the covers to see if his wand and his holster were still in place. His shoulders sank visibly when his left fingers felt that familiar shape. That relaxation was quickly replaced with confusion right after. He knit his eyebrows together as his mind continually pulled up blanks about where he was.

It was too quiet to be a hospital, and too cramped to be a doctor's office.

"What—Er, what happened? Where am I? How long as I out—?" Once the first question spilled out, the others couldn't stop.

"One at a time, please, Potter-kun," Tsukauchi said lightly, waving his hand in a 'Calm down, please,' fashion. The detective pulled out a small chair from the corner of the room and placed it beside Harry's bed before sitting down.

The man bore his black eyes on Harry's form until that hand on Hedwig's feathers faltered.

"As you may already know, we fought the League of Villains that night—and then All Might came and saved us," Tsukauchi explained, being deliberately vague. "That's what I wanted to ask you next. You probably remember me saying that I've been investigating the organization, but I barely have any information on the two that we fought—The major ones. Do you remember anything at all from your fight with the man? Anything at all?"

Harry's lower lip dropped, but then he looked down in his lap in thought.

"Um…" His free hand grabbed a fistful of his blanket. "Not a lot...I remember seeing blue hair and pale skin...And I remember trying to fight him, but it was mostly just me trying to avoid his hand." Harry looked up at the detective. "I'm sorry—That's most of what I remember. Everything else is blurry…"

Tsukauchi smiled gently. "That's alright, Potter-kun. I've suspected as much. You did have a concussion after all."

Harry gaped. "A concussion—?!" He twisted back in forth in his bed as if he was searching for something. "Where—"

"You're currently in the nurse's office in U.A. Academy," Tsukauchi said, standing up and moving over to the foot of Harry's bed. "You were asleep for one and a half days—It's almost Saturday evening now, but the school nurse said that it was mostly due to exhaustion, so you're fine. Recovery Girl was the one that healed you, so the next time you see her it would be polite to say thank you." The detective smiled softly.

"I—"

Right when Harry was about to speak more, the door to the nurse's office slammed open and in came one of the weirdest groups of people that Harry had ever seen. (And that was saying something.)

At the front of the group was a short and stout elderly woman that was dressed in a pristine doctor's coat over a white and pink dress. Her laugh lines were prominent, as well as her iron grey bun with a syringe looped into it. Beside her was a creature that Harry had never seen before.

It had the ears of a bear, the long tail of a dog, the snout of a mouse, the short, white fur of a rabbit, and overly round paws. It was dressed in a nicely pressed suit with double lapels and large orange sneakers. The creature would've looked cute and cuddly, but that image was ruined by the large scar that ran through one shiny, button-black eye.

Behind them were two men that couldn't have been any more different from each other.

One man had spiky, blond hair that almost went straight up and he moved like he had eaten every single candy bar at Honeydukes and was just now suffering from the sugar rush. His eyes were covered by sunglasses and he wore strange silver gear over black clothes.

The man on the other side reminded Harry of a more youthful, more handsome, and more tired version of Snape. They shared each other's penchant for black clothes and unruly, long black hair. Frankly, he looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, complete with tired, groggy eyes and unshaven stubble.

The only female of the group came over to Harry's side and immediately pulled out a stethoscope and a note pad. Hedwig hopped out of his arms and flew to rest on top of some filing cabinets. Watchful amber eyes never left his form. The taller two of the four followed her with their eyes.

"You're finally awake!" Recovery Girl said in a cute, high-pitched but shaky voice that matched her age. "How are you feeling, dear?" The old lady came up closer and put the stethoscope underneath Harry's torn hoodie, making him flinch at the feeling of the cold metal. "I apologize for not being here when you woke up, we had a meeting to get to…" She trailed off as she wrote down his heart rate, took his temperature, checked his blood pressure and so on.

"That's alright…" Harry said, squirming a bit in bed. He was starting to feel antsy from her checkup. He was never fond of the hospital wing, and he doubted that a muggle nurse's office would make him feel any different.

"Potter-kun just woke up five minutes ago, Recovery Girl," Tsukauchi said from the foot of Harry's bed. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Ah!" Harry's eyes widened. "Recovery Girl?" He turned to the woman, surprised. Harry turned his head toward Tsukauchi and the man gave him a nod. Remembering his manners, Harry quickly bowed to the woman. "T-Thank you for healing me!"

"It's no problem, dear," she said kindly with a soft smile. "If anything you should thank All Might, he was the one who saved you from those nasty villains."

Everyone kept on repeating that name, as if they expected Harry to know exactly who he was. "Did he stop them?" he asked instead. All he remembered was that All Might was the man from the newspaper earlier.

Tsukauchi shook his head almost bitterly. "No, they fled shortly after he arrived."

"Oh." His shoulders drooped.

"Everything seems to be in order," Recovery Girl switched the conversation, jotting down notes. "Your hand might have some soreness, but you didn't need any skin grafts to replace what was disintegrated. Do you feel any pain anywhere else?" She stepped back to take a better look at Harry before those narrow eyes landed on his rags. "I'm sorry about what you're wearing, Potter-kun, we couldn't get you a change of clothes!" Harry looked down at his clothes for the first time that day, and realized that he was still wearing his black trousers and grey hoodie. However, his hoodie was left with a gaping hole from the time when Shigaraki almost disintegrated Harry's side. Harry reached down to poke the bandages wrapped around his waist.

"It's fine," Harry reassured, more truthful than not.

 _And if they didn't change me that means that they didn't see my wand holster…_ Harry thought, feeling relief flood through his veins.

The old woman hummed and stepped back for the strange animal to suddenly hop on the chair and then climb on Harry's bed.

"Hello!" it introduced, lifting up a paw in the air. Harry tilted his head. "Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear? I am...Principal Nezu of U.A. High!" When Nezu introduce himself like that, happily and cheerfully, even Harry found himself having a hard time keeping his rough edge. He could practically see the sparkles and confetti behind the principal.

"Er—I'm Harry," he eventually said, holding out a hand to shake. "Potter Harry." His larger hand shook the rounded paw awkwardly. "Um...can you tell me why I'm in a school's nurse's office?" Harry finally asked again. "And not a hospital?"

"All Might had another crime to tend to, and U.A. was closer, dear," Recovery Girl gently explained from her spot near her computer. From what Harry could see, she was inputting his information down in a blank file. Harry turned back to the principal after feeling a slight jolt of panic. He shouldn't leave any tracks behind.

Yet Harry still didn't know why there were still so many people in his room, why they looked at him like a project they wanted to try out, where his trunk and belongings were, and what exactly was going on.

"It's nice to meet you! Now, we've already heard the story from Tsukauchi-san, but we wanted to hear it from your point of view as well." The president explained, voice squeaky and light. "Would you mind telling us what happened that night?"

Harry blinked owlishly and looked around the room. The tired, black-haired man looked like he wanted to kneel over and take a nice nap, while the blond one was currently having an almost comical staredown with Hedwig. His owl puffed up her chest and fluffed up her feathers almost proudly while lightning seemed to strike between the two of them.

Eventually, Harry retold the story from his perspective, starting from the moment he walked into the alleyway to the moment when he heard All Might's laughter. The principal nodded as if he already expected Harry's answer.

"And did Shigaraki say anything when you knocked the hand from his face?" Nezu asked gently, if not still peppy from the tone of his voice.

Harry tilted his head at the question, seeming undisturbed. "He said—He was going to kill me."

Harry's voice was flat, but it didn't convey the hysterical worry that one should've expected from a teenager. The temperature in the room felt like it went down until it was cold enough to freeze over.

The adults all looked each other, sharing stares and silent conversations between their darkened irises. Hedwig hooted beside Harry and he turned his head to every hero.

He was confused. Wasn't it a simple threat? If anything, Harry had more than enough to deal with without the idea of a simple threat from a childish pale man getting in the way. But their heavy silence made Harry worry; as if he should be more frightened than this.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, breaking the silence like thin ice on a winter lake. When no one answered him, he furrowed his eyebrows and a muscle near his jaw tightened. His temper wore down like a dull blade, and his worry crept on from just their strange behavior alone. "Can someone tell me—"

"I...am _late_!" another voice burst through. When he said that, Harry meant literally _burst_. An overly muscular blond man entered the small nurse's office as if he had a dynamic entry straight out of a comic book. The tension from mere seconds before instantly disappeared and was replaced with a jittery energy. The man didn't do anything spectacular, but his presence alone was enough to make Harry have the urge to squint. The skinnier blond man that apparently had some beef with Hedwig knit his eyebrows together and pulled a pained smile while the tired man simply deadpanned.

 _Why is everyone always interrupting me?_

Harry shook off his irritation from being interrupted once more and blinked at the newcomer.

Spiky blond hair in a "V," broad smile, overly muscular: he was the man from the newspaper.

It took Harry a while to pick his jaw up and close his mouth. "You're All Might," Harry eventually said, surprised. He was the one that everyone spoke about as if he was the man who pulled the sun up into the sky every morning.

"Ah! Yes, I am, Young Potter! And I am here to commend you for your bravery during your fight with the villain!"

He was _loud_. When All Might said that to Harry, the wizard could almost see flashing yellow lights and an American flag behind the hero.

"Uhh, I should be the one thanking you for saving me," Harry said awkwardly, not sure of how to make of this strange man with a superstar personality of Gilderoy Lockhart and the size of Hagrid. The man sent him a ceremonious thumbs up and a smile that was even brighter than the one already plastered on his face. Then, All Might turned to Nezu, and in the weirdest turn of character, seemingly shrank in sheepishness as he whispered to the small principal.

Nezu hummed and nod in certain places while All Might continued to whisper as if for confirmation.

All Might suddenly cleared his throat and stepped back. Nezu straightened up his suit and looked at Harry once more, bringing all of the attention from the flashy hero back to the Quirkless boy.

"As I was saying before All Might came in…" All volume in the room ceased. "Potter-kun, would you like to join U.A. High?"

If Harry was drinking water at that moment, he would've surely spit it out.

Harry whirled his head around to Hedwig in a panic, and they both shared the same deer in the headlights look. Was he hearing them correctly? Harry whipped his head around after the stares of everyone became apparent on his skin.

"Join your school?!" Harry sputtered. An incredulous look was on his face, his eyebrows and frown knit with disbelief. "I can't!" The question was so out of the blue to Harry that he didn't even know where to start, and how to comprehend it.

"Do you know what you're doing, boy?" the skinny, spiky-haired blond said, suddenly cutting into the conversation. "U.A. is one of the best school for heroics in the world! This a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you're passing up! You don't even have to do the entrance exams and you get to be on scholarship—Do you know how many kids wish to be in your place right now?!" The volume of his voice spiked toward the end like someone was cranking up gigantic stereos.

"But I don't want to be a hero anyway!" Harry said firmly and stubbornly in the face of Present Mic. Though he had the temptation to yell back in his face to hopelessly attempt to speak over him. The loud hero twisted his expression and looked at Harry as if the wizard was incredibly daft, like he had told them that he had grown two heads. Even then Harry ignored the man's reaction continued to counter the Pro. "Besides, I already go to another school, I can't—"

"If you already go to another school," the tired man spoke up, voice low and slow like a deep drawl, "why aren't you there right now?" His voice was quiet, but it willed everyone to listen. Harry's head turned towards Eraserhead so speedily that his messy hair was blown with the movement for a second.

That made Harry shut up real quick.

Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "I—" he stuttered under the man's dark gaze. "It's personal," he eventually finished. He didn't even know where to start, even if he did want to tell the truth. He had lost two father figures and was just escaping from his sorrows? He comes from a magical school where he's the figurehead of a war that might start? The was no way Harry would be able to even give them a half-truth without them carting him off to a psych ward. "But I'll be back soon!" Eraserhead's expression told Harry that the man wasn't believing him. "I just don't know when…" the Gryffindor finished lamely.

Eraserhead made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat.

"Potter-kun, maybe it is best to hear them out," Tsukauchi said, trying to soothe the teen that was getting more stressed out by these expectant heroes. Harry turned to the only adult that he was familiar with and pressed his lips together, but nodded.

Present Mic took that as a sign to lavishly present to Harry all of the wonders that being a U.A. student, starting with the wonderful amenities that they give to every student, their gourmet cafeteria, Pro-Heroes as teachers ("And even All Might as your teacher! Isn't that coooool?!"), and so on and so on.

"Even if you don't want to be a hero, we have multiple courses for support and even then U.A.'s name is its weight in gold! You can get almost any job you want with this on your resume!" Present Mic loudly said, throwing his arms open like he expected Harry to yell and sway with him. "The great hero Napoleon Bonaparte once said, 'True heroism consists in being superior to the ills of life.' PLLLUSSSSS ULTRAAAAA!" The Pro finished off, posing with grandeur and his arms in the air. In the background, Harry saw Nezu and Recovery Girl clap politely.

Harry only grimaced from the volume, and flinched every time All Might decided to join in.

 _I doubt having U.A. as a school would help me get a job as an Auror…_ Harry thought, already picking out flaws in the blond's attempt to get Harry to join.

"So, brat, did we change your mind yet?!" Present Mic said, holding a hand out to the Gryffindor.

"No," the wizard said bluntly. In less than a second, Present Mic's loud aura looked like it took a nosedive.

Harry at least looked apologetic, and pulled his legs closer to his lap in a criss-cross. He then furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the Pro-Heroes with an expression they couldn't read.

"Why…?" Harry blurted out, then widened his eyes shortly after realizing that he was being rude. "No offense or anything, but even if you guys give me all of these nice perks, and if this really is the best hero school in the entire world...Why do you want me to go to U.A. so much?" Harry asked, mentally kicking himself for not questioning this first. He could hear Mad-Eye Moody yelling at him about "CONSTANT VIGILANCE" from here. "I didn't even win the battle between the villain. I would've died if it weren't for All Might."

The principal suddenly popped in closer to Harry's face, making the wizard flinch back.

"You're a smart boy!" the mouse-dog-bear combination said, his tail flicking behind him. "You caught on well!"

"Uh...Thanks?" Harry said, more of a question than anything. Yet knowing that they so easily accepted Harry catching them in their plan made Harry's temper start to rise again, something that hasn't happened since the height of his fifth year. He _hated_ being just another scheme.

"To be honest," the principal said, "the League of Villains is an organization that we've been chasing for a while now, so they're a tough crowd to crack. Since the man you fought, Shigaraki Tomura, gave you a death threat the teachers at U.A. decided that it was best for you to stay close to them in case Shigaraki decided to go through with that threat."

"If it's my safety that you're worried about then you'd let me go back to England," Harry instantly countered, becoming frustrated. "They wouldn't follow me there!" At least, Harry _thought_ that a criminal organization had something better to do than chase a sixteen-year-old boy across the world.

"Oh!" Nezu said cutely. "Thank you for reminding me! That brings up another point of mine that I almost forgot!" The principal then got close to Harry's face, making him lean back. "You used your Quirk that night, didn't you?" he asked in a lowered voice.

Harry choked on his spit. "M-My Quirk?" Harry whipped his head toward Tsukauchi. The man at least had the decency to look guilty. Harry's heart started to pound.

"Sorry, Potter-kun, but I had to tell them the truth," the detective said. "Don't stress about it though! Everyone in this room is trying to help you."

Harry scanned the room again, taking every expectant gaze from the adults and leaned back until he felt Hedwig behind him. He didn't say anything, but he felt Hedwig tense as well, ready to defend her owner at a moment's notice. His palms started to sweat under the bandages and his left fingers twitched for his wand.

"It's illegal to use Quirks outside of a Pro-Hero job," Nezu started to explain, but Harry blocked him out the moment he said that.

His heart rate started to slow when the stress of the Statute of Secrecy was lifted from his shoulders again. He didn't know what he would have done if he did. He certainly couldn't fight all of them now, not when they were physically stronger and faster.

It was alright, Harry told himself anyway. _They didn't know—they were confused with magic and Quirks_. Tsukauchi only looked guilty because Harry apparently broke a law.

However, once Harry reached this thought, Harry had to do another double-take.

"B-Broke a law?!" Harry shouted, a bit louder than he intented. "But I was just defending myself!" he said defiantly.

"We know that, Young Harry," All Might spoke up, "but that's where you have to trust in us!"

"In order to protect you," Nezu said gently, despite all of the shouting and frustration Harry threw at the principal, "we dealt with everything: with the press, with the authorities; even Tsukauchi-san is putting his job on the line by lying for you." The blood from Harry's face went cold and drained. He felt like he was on trial again, standing in a itchy suit and trying to explain himself to the toad that was Umbridge and Fudge for the dementors.

"U.A. High took all of the blame because we were the ones who gave you a 'temporary license' that night, don't you remember?" Nezu explained, winking at Harry as he fabricated the story. Harry knew that this was the lie that he had to tell to save his own skin in the future. "Of course, you're our only transfer student, so we thought that we would give you some special perks so you can go out with your then supervisor, Tsukauchi Naomasa…" Nezu waved a paw at Tsukauchi and the aforementioned man tilted his hat in response. "To view the city for the first time and apprentice under someone from the Police Force for the day."

"Potter-kun," Nezu finally said once he saw the Harry had grown to take in the story that they just fed him, "now do you understand why we need you as a student here?"

Harry's nod was stiff and slow, and his knuckles were white.

"Don't think of this as us holding you against your will!" The president poked a thin cheek with his paw. "Just stay with us for several months, at least by then we can say that your transfer program is finished and finalized. We can even call your school for you—"

"Don't!" Harry shouted, holding out his hand to halt them. "Don't call anyone!" Even though they would never be able to reach Hogwarts by phone, them questioning Harry about what school he went to was enough to make his stomach churn.

The look Eraserhead gave him from under his scarf looked like Harry confirmed some suspicions.

"I take it from your response, I trust that this means you agree?" the principal asked, sounding as pleasant as ever.

"...Yes," Harry said, sinking his shoulders. Did he have any other choice? The moment those words left his mouth, he felt a weight on his shoulders from the events that he just got himself into.

"Great!" Two paws came together to clap. "Welcome to U.A. High, Potter-kun!" Somehow, Harry felt like he just signed up for much more trouble than he was worth. Nezu immediately hopped off Harry's bed.

"Wait!" Harry said, making everyone in the room stop again. He swallowed and looked from Tsukauchi to All Might to Nezu with worried eyes. "Why...are you doing all of this for me…?"

"Because, Young Harry," All Might said, turning to him and flexing his biceps without trying. "You have shown great bravery when taking on Shigaraki, and you have shown that you have every making of a true hero! Tsukauchi-san has said nothing but good things about your skills and abilities! You have gone beyond! You went... _plus ultra_!"

All Might spoke confidently and firmly as ever, but it was the way he spoke. Every word he had was nothing but sincerity for Harry, lifted with a softened edge to his praise. They didn't even know each other. Harry didn't know that All Might was the number one hero, and the blond man didn't know that Harry was the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. Yet, there was no doubt in All Might's mind that the skinny boy in front of him could do great things. Harry's jaw dropped from the statement, and suddenly that image of Gilderoy Lockhart melted away into something else when he stared up at the light that was All Might. Maybe he wasn't the guy that pulled the sun into the sky every day. Maybe he was the one who built the sun by himself.

"Okay, okay," Recovery Girl suddenly said, shooing All Might aside while she brought forward a manila folder forward. The gigantic hero shuffled to the side like a tiny child. "You can get the boy's heart rate up another time, but now…" She clicked her pen and got to work.

Now that Harry was a "student" here, Recovery Girl needed a file on him too just in case anything happened (and things probably were, this was Harry Potter).

She took his blood, asked him if he had any allergies or took any medication. She made him stand up to take his height and weight, and did all of these tests while Harry's head was still muddled from what had just happened before him.

As questions were still swirling around his head, things such as what he was going to tell Ron and Hermione, what he was going to do about his wizarding education, what was _Dumbledore_ going to do, Nezu suddenly took his uninjured hand and started to take Harry out of the nurse's office.

"Huh?" Harry asked, being pulled off the scales. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to give you a Quirk evaluation!" the principal said cheerfully.

"Q-Quirk evaluation?!" shouted Harry, quickly slipping on his slippers, then his regular shoes that someone had neatly left out. The two blonds, Hedwig, Tsukauchi, and the tired man followed.

"You didn't think that we were just going to take you in without a Quirk evaluation, did you?!" Present Mic asked. Harry turned around to glare at the loud, blond man, and the corners of his lips turned down.

 _But didn't you say that I didn't have to take an entrance exam?_ Harry mentally asked and pulled a grimace.

"It's nothing strenuous!" the principal tried to reassure, his large sneakers making loud padding sounds down the empty school. "Recovery Girl wouldn't have it if I made you do anything taxing!" Harry zipped past large windows, white halls and gigantic doors. Even though the principal was small, he was strong and speedy. Harry was barely able to catch his surroundings before he was taken down a flight of stairs or around a corner.

The animal eventually dragged Harry to what looked like a large gym, just right around the main building where the nurse's office was. The room was spacious with a high roof, bright lights, and clean, white seats surrounding the second level of the gym. Looking back down at the polished hardwood, a cart of weights and dumbells sat near the corner, going from the twenties to the 400s in kilograms. It looked normal, maybe a bit high end for a regular school, but it was strange to Harry that they would have a space for sports like volleyball or basketball.

Hedwig zipped through the vast room with white wings spread wide, and flew up toward the seats above, landing on the bars and sitting in wait.

The principal made a quick gesture, and Present Mic and Tsukauchi quickly disappeared into the storage room that was tucked off to the side of the court. They returned not long after with a strange machine, as large as one of the vending machines that were littering the streets of Japan, and silver and blue in color. The Pro and detective dropped it in front of Harry and the teen gaped at the strange contraption. On the machine was a small, silver disk like a hot plate.

"Usually Quirk evaluations are different, but since you just got released by Recovery Girl, this will have to suffice!" Nezu said. His eyes were on a small handheld tablet in his paws, and everyone waited as he pushed some buttons around. "This machine will measure your Quirk's power!"

"Even if this is a test of strength used only for those with physical Quirks, it's impressive technology, isn't it?" Tsukauchi asked no one in particular. His face turned studious, and tone held slight awe as he studied the machine.

"Yes, it is! It uses forces of impact to give you your numerical score," the principal continued. "Think of it as one of those punching machines you see in the arcade! The concept is all the same." He turned toward the shaggy-haired man standing in the back of their small crowd. "Eraserhead, can you please give us a demonstration?"

Eraserhead silently sauntered up to the front of the machine and Harry quickly shuffled back to give the man space. In a blink, the man lifted up a leg and landed a kick so hard that the machine rattled.

All was silent until Nezu turned the tabet in his paws around.

 _226._

"It's an impressive score isn't it?" Nezu asked, voice light with awe. "It's much better than anything I can do!" The animal laughed. The principal then turned to Harry, and he felt the spotlight land on him again. "Now it's your turn, Potter-kun! It has shock absorption, so please hit it with all your might!"

"All my...might?" he mumbled, awkwardly stepping toward the front of the machine as all of the eyes were on him again. He stood in front of the plate, and placed a hand on the cool metal. The burning of the eyes on his form was on the back of his neck, raising the hair.

 _My strongest spells are Expelliarmus and Stupefy_ , he thought, racking his brain for a spell to use, _but if this is measured by impact, they're useless. There are two spells I can use...but I'm not sure if they're actually shock or just magic._ His green eyes looked down at his hand and the disk, noticing how his hand was just barely large enough for his fingers to brush the edges.

"Don't worry, Potter-kun" Tsukauchi said gently, probably to help Harry with his hesitation. "I already told them the gist of your Quirk, so they just need to see it."

Harry looked down at his other fist, clenching and unclenching before he looked back up at the machine. He brought his left hand up to his right forearm, feeling the wand underneath.

 _Can I use it?_

He then turned to the expectant Pros, his eyes lingering on the tired man whose own eyes were furrowing. Harry felt like he was going under the scrutiny of Snape again, and using that as fuel, he turned to the machine head on.

He held out his right hand and channeled in as much magic as he could for this one spell—

Strained eyes widened.

" _Bombarda—_ "

Bandages loosened.

" _Maxima!_ " Harry whispered with as much strength as he had.

The teen cried out in shock the moment his feet was lifted off the ground and his arms snapped to his sides. He was thrown to the ground, and light pain spread throughout his sides. He cried out the moment he made the impact, and his glasses were knocked askew.

He heard Hedwig screech and she was circling around him up above.

The bandages that were around his body were suddenly loosened, and Harry had to pick himself up off the floor with aching elbows and bruised shoulders. Tsukauchi-san rushed in half way to help Harry get up off the ground and the detective quickly fixed the glasses on Harry's face.

Just as Harry was about to bark a couple words at the only bandage-clad man in the room, his head caught the disaster in front of him.

He had completely obliterated the machine.

Bits of wire, metal, and plastic were still falling to the ground like a rain, and the air surrounding them was covered in dust and smoke.

Only after the bits and pieces stopped clicking against the ground did Harry finally recollect his sensed. His head snapped up at Nezu and questions almost leapt off the tip of his tongue.

"...How impressive!" the principal eventually said, button-black eyes never leaving the screen. Present Mic had jumped in front of the small creature to shield him from the onslaught of rubble.

"I…" Harry's eyes moved back and forth trying to find the right thing to say. He wanted to ask about his specific score, but he jumped ahead of himself and spoke without thinking. "Did I pass?" he asked nervously as he fixed his glasses.

Nezu paused for a second before he cheerfully looked back up at him and nodded. "Yes, yes you did! You're free to go, but if you want to stop by Recovery Girl, you're welcome to do so! You can get clearance from her and collect your stuff and you can go. You officially start on Monday! Welcome to U.A.! Plus Ultra!"

The "Plus Ultra" was repeated by the blond with much fervor and passion, and Harry echoed them weakly seconds after.

He was eager to get out of here, more than what his curiosity would allow, but he pushed up off the floor and quickly ushered himself and Hedwig out the gym doors without a look back. Harry's heart was pumping too hard from the adrenaline rush for him to do anything but run off. He shuffled away like he was expecting them to call him back any time now, and yell at him for breaking their equipment.

He only looked forward, even as he ran past the entrance of U.A., his new school.

* * *

"What did he get, Nezu-san?" Tsukauchi asked, brushing off his trench coat.

"Yeah!" Present Mic jumped in in a volume that was as loud as always. "What's the score?" The loud blond crept up closer to the small principal, but Aizawa decided to linger where he was. Thoughts rushed through his mind to occupy the silence that was left in the gym, but even the soft tone of Nezu was enough to cut through the excited air.

"Ah…" the principal started out, eyes never leaving the screen, "he's just like All Might… He…"

Three pairs of eyes became impossibly wide as the principal turned the screen around for everyone to see.

"...Maxed it out."

The number 9999 shone in a brilliant blue against the electric screen.

* * *

"Hey," Yamada Hizashi annoyingly said, nudging Aizawa Shouta on the shoulder. "Do you really think that the boy is as strong as All Might?"

He was uncomfortably close to Aizawa, almost enough for the volume of his voice to blow the brunet's eardrum out of he wanted to and for the blond's warm breath to be felt. Usually, Aizawa would lazily shove the Pro aside, but seeing how he was especially tired today, and how he was already used to Hizashi's antics, he allowed it. He was much too exhausted after a full night of Pro work, being called in the early morning hours about some injured boy who managed to fight off the League of Villains, dealing with a half-day of his crazed teens, and what had just passed hours before to care much about the blond.

"'The Power Reader is flawed," Aizawa dropped in that flat tone of his. "The mechanics are durable, but they are only accurate at reading physical abilities. Potter's Quirk isn't physical, from what we saw it exerts a force, and that probably broke it from the inside out."

They had talked it out with Power Loader hours earlier, and just until recently when the sun dripped beneath the horizon were they able to head on home. The Development Pro explained how the Reader worked, and from what it looked like, the machine blew up from all directions: including inside out. If it was a regular physical force then it would've been from outside in in one direction only.

The only reason why Potter Harry managed to max it out was because he broke the internal processor that graded the power.

No matter how much the orange-haired hero tried to reassure them though, there was always that underlying air that settled on their shoulders.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

For all they knew, Potter Harry could be stronger than All Might.

* * *

Harry immediately dropped his trunk and his bag the moment he entered his new, small hotel room. Hedwig flew in, perching herself on the windowsill as she took in her new surroundings with wide, amber eyes.

The Gryffindory dug into his bag pocket and pulled out the two-way mirror before leaping on the bed.

"Call Ron and Hermione!" Before the worried image of his two friends could even appear, Harry continued. "The two of you won't believe what just happened to me!"


	7. Chapter Six

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione roared from the other side of the two-way mirror, interrupting Harry before he could continue his story. "Do you even listen to us when we tell you to stay out of trouble? No matter how much to tell us not to worry—" Hermione huffed. "Give us one good reason why I shouldn't book two plane tickets to Japan right now!"

"Sorry, Hermione…" Though Harry doubted that even Hermione would be able to go online and book tickets, he wouldn't put it against the brightest witch of their age. "It's not like I picked a fight with him!" Harry said sheepishly, looking at Ron for backup.

Ron just gave him a shrug and a, 'What can you do,' look.

"And you!" Hermione wheeled in on Ron, making the red-headed boy flinch back. "Your best friend just told you that he got in a fight with a villain! Would it hurt you to show a little bit more sympathy?"

"Blimey!" Ron snapped back. "He looks fine, and besides—" Ron looked uncertain. "It's not like he went up against You-Know-Who—"

"Harry could've died!" Hermione said.

"I'm fine, Hermione!" Harry finally cut in, making his two bickering best friends quieten. "Recovery Girl healed me up just fine, and other than my hand…" He flexed it around his bandages. "I don't feel any pain or aches at all."

"Rotten luck that you had to go up against some pasty bloke with a...disintegration Quirk though," Ron said, moving the mirror so that it was more comfortable for both him and Hermione.

"Yeah…" Harry said. He glanced at his hand once more before he dropped it—He'll try to fix it with an Episkey later. "Say, where are you two? What time is it over there?"

"It's nine in the morning now—You called right when our free period started," Hermione answered. "And we're in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." The witch took the mirror from Ron's hand and turned it around so Harry could see the surroundings.

"Strangely she's not here," Ron muttered, looking up at the ceiling, trying to spot the weeping ghost. "We don't hear any loud and ugly crying."

"Oh, hush, Ron," Hermione said.

"I don't see what's the big—" The Weasley instantly shut up from the scalding glare Hermione was giving him. Ron turned back to the mirror instead. "But the fact that you're not going back to Hogwarts…"

"It's not that I'm not going back—" Harry looked guilty. He almost felt like he was cheating on the castle. "I'm just—I'm just stuck here, but I guess that helps with finding Mr. Midoriya's son; by staying in one spot and all that."

Hermione gave him a conflicted look.

"The whole story—I don't know, it all just sounds so—"

"Impossible?" Harry suggested. He slumped forward with an audible puff of air. "I know, I'm still trying to believe it too."

"To think that you got personally asked to enter the best school of heroics in the world…" The witch shook her head. Hermione paused for a while, and for that time both Harry and Ron were too engrossed in her expressions to say anything. Hermione had her thinking face on. The one that got them through more than enough these past few years.

"Harry—I know...Well, Ron and I know that—" Hermione made a frustrated sound from her throat and knit her eyebrows. Ron put a hand on her shoulder to help her get the words out that she has been tripping over. Then she exhaled out of her nose like an angry kitten and stared right at him through the mirror's glass. "Harry, you wouldn't go to U.A. if you really didn't want to! You have more than enough power to escape, and they would never find you—Not even in the Wizarding World...You love Hogwarts! So why…?"

From the unsurprised look on Ron's face, Harry knew that the other wizard was suspecting something too. Harry gaped at the two of them, opening and closing his mouth to try and say something back.

After a minute of two, he finally sighed.

"You really know me more than I do, Hermione," Harry tiredly said with a lopsided smile. Hermione returned the smile with a weak one of her own. While no one said anything, Harry lowered his head and sunk his body into the bed that he was currently laying on. He was silent for a while, the cool breeze from the open window floated into the room and gently tugged on his hair and kissed his cheeks.

"I thought that…" Harry suddenly started out, breaking the silence. "When I was sitting on that bed and they were giving me all of these perks about being a student there, I only thought that Hogwarts was _my home_. It's where you two and Hagrid, and the rest of the Gryffindors, and McGonagall and Dumbledore are…" Harry looked helpless for a second. "But that won't help me defeat Voldemort at all." Harry's eyes grew dark and determined and that image of a vulnerable sixteen-year-old boy was wiped away. "If Dumbledore really wanted me to complete my prophecy, then he would've trained me from the start. I decided to go to U.A. to get stronger. Physically, or emotionally, or strategically."

The Boy-Who-Lived's cheeks colored right after he finished the speech, and he wanted to pull on his hoodie strings until they covered his eyes, but he stared on at his best friends.

"I'm going to be gone for a while—so if you two want to stop covering for me—"

"You're kidding, right, mate?" Ron asked as if that was the dumbest question Harry asked in a while.

"Harry, no matter what decision you make, we'll back you up," Hermione reassured. "We were just curious about you suddenly joining U.A. and the circumstances were so suspicious that—Nevermind that, Harry, let me just say that we don't have to cover for you anyway."

"Huh?" Harry gaped.

"It's all over the Daily Prophet," Ron said, grunting a bit as he stood up to go grab his school bag. The Weasley pulled it over to their side and pulled out a folded copy of the newspaper. Hermione held the mirror while Ron unfolded it before Harry's eyes.

" _The Chosen One Excused From Hogwarts?_ " it read. On the front page was a picture of what looked like Harry, standing on the steps of the Ministry of Magic building, waving to the crowd beside a tall and lanky man that looked like an old lion. The Harry in the paper turned around from the flashing of cameras before waving goodbye and walking up the stairs, but not before tripping over the first step.

"What the—Who is that?! Is that me?!" Harry's eyes widened and he shouted in shock, leaning closer to the mirror. He looked Ron and Hermione in the eye. "That can't be Polyjuice, right? You guys don't have my hair!"

"The man is Rufus Scrimgeour, the new minister," Ron said, blue eyes popping up from behind the top of the newspaper."

"It's Tonks," Hermione said, pointing to the fake Harry.

"Tonks?!"

Hermione took the newspaper away from Ron's hand and started to skim the article.

"It's mostly a bunch of rubbish." She looked up again to glance at Harry. "It's all this propaganda about you being the Chosen One, and Voldemort's return. Although…" Hermione folded up the newspaper so that Harry could read it through the small mirror. "The important part is here."

Harry squinted his eyes and read.

"In short, it says that you're on the Minister's side, and that you're taking a short leave from Hogwarts to deal with the 'hurtful trauma' from Voldemort's return. Dumbledore and Scrimgeour legally excused you and everything," Hermione summarized.

"What?" Harry asked. Why would they do that? He never had a good relationship with the Ministry after all.

"It's mostly to not cause a panic," Hermione explained. "Without you at Hogwarts, people were bound to talk. They staged this so people don't start believing that their Chosen One 'abandoned' them during Voldemort's return or something."

"Abandoned…?" Harry muttered to himself, eyebrows knit.

"The students here are still talking," Ron supplied, "but it's mostly gossip. The only thing that they have to go by is the Daily Prophet, and us." Ron gestured to himself and Hermione. "But we've been keeping out of everyone's way for the most part. Luna and Ginny are suspicious though. I think that she's been influencing the rest of the Gryffindor boys our year too—but they haven't said anything so far."

Harry ignored that last part as he mulled over that one word. Harry's green eyes met with theirs.

"I'm not...I'm not abandoning anyone, am I?" Harry eventually asked.

"Harry, just because the stupid Daily Prophet says that it's your responsibility to take down Voldemort singlehandedly while they sit back, doesn't mean that it is!" Hermione automatically scolded him, shaking the rolled up newspaper in her hand.

"And it's not like you're running away forever. You're getting stronger at U.A. aren't you?" Ron asked.

After a few seconds of more encouragement from his best friends, Harry nodded slowly.

"I guess…" Harry cleared his throat. "Thanks you guys. I needed that."

"That's what we're here for!" Ron said, "To give you a good slap on the head when you forget!"

"And if you get into any more trouble, at least one more time, we'll come straight there!" Hermione said, sounding strangely like McGonagall.

Ron honestly pointed that out and the two boys shared a laugh while the only witch fumed.

"Hey!" Ron cried out when Hermione hit him with a heavy, leather bound book.

Hermione huffed haughtily and turned slightly away from the Weasley.

"Harry," she said, seemingly ignoring the other male in the room. "When we get the chance, we'll send you some sixth-year reading material that Fred and George missed, alright? But until then, you better not slack in your studies at the muggle school either!"

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said with a playful roll of his eyes.

"Let him live a little, 'Mione!" Ron said. "Say, Harry, tell me about this muggle school!"

"There's not much I know either," Harry shrugged. "I just got accepted because of this one law and they covered for me." As he retold the story that Nezu told him to use, Hermione and Ron looked thoughtful.

"That's a bit weird, isn't it?" Ron eventually said, scratching the back of his neck. Even Hermione looked at him and he reacted sheepishly. "I mean—We have a law just like the muggles: our underage law, but if Harry uses magic outside of Hogwarts, you don't see Durmstrang, Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny trying to cover for him."

"Ron's right," Hermione said, and the two could see the gears in her head working. "They don't even see Harry for who he is, yet they're being strangely charitable…People out there get in trouble all day, and U.A. will come to help, but not more than that…"

"I thought that was strange too, but I don't feel worried about them harming me," the Boy-Who-Lived spoke up uncertainly. "I just don't know what—"

"Hermione, our next class is about to start," Ron said, tugging on Hermione's arm. "Snape's going to be on our case more than ever if we're late."

Hermione sighed and nodded. They all communicated through their eyes that Harry was going to say goodbye to them here and call them next time. As Hermione stood up and straightened up her skirt, she looked at Harry through the mirror one last time.

"Harry, as of right now, take advantage of what U.A. is giving you. Every class, every lesson," Hermione instructed. "We'll deal with their true intentions later, because I doubt that they'd try anything too drastic right now."

Harry nodded.

"Take care, mate," Ron said. "Just because they're heroes, doesn't mean that they don't lie, so you gotta watch out."

"I got it," Harry said. "I'll call you two later."

"Bye, Harry!" they both said before the mirror shut them off with a swirl of color.

Harry laid there in a frozen position for a few seconds before letting out all of the breath that he had in his lungs and collapsed in his bed.

He flopped over and stared up at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

* * *

Monday came faster than expected, and Harry was quickly getting ready for his first day of school.

Well...Technically it wasn't his _first_ day of school, no matter how someone looked at it. Today was mostly a prep day for Harry, filling out paperwork, getting a tour around school, talking with the support class about the hero suit that he was supposed to have, the person that Nezu sent over on Sunday gave him a temporary pass to get through the U.A. gates and told Harry that he didn't have to come to school until one o'clock in the afternoon.

It was currently eleven-thirty, and Harry silently dressed in his Weasley sweater to fight off the cold of the autumn day and a regular pair of dark trousers. Yesterday he had fixed the dryness on his side and his hand with an Episkey and a layer of moisturizer from his magical first aid kit that he had picked up in Diagon Alley, and now a majority of the injury was gone.

Harry strapped his wand to his holster, making sure that it was well hidden by his sweater sleeve and slung his bag over his shoulder while checking to see if his wallet and hotel key was still in his pockets.

"I'm about to head to U.A, Hedwig," Harry called out to the owl that was currently drinking water from the small bowl Harry left out for her. "The building that we were in earlier. Do you want to come with me?"

Hedwig straightened up and hooted, fluffing up her feathers before flying and landing on Harry's shoulder. She clicked her beak at him as he slipped on his shoes.

"Alright," he said, with a smile before stepping out of his hotel room and locking up. "I'll let you go just before we enter the building so you don't feel cooped up inside all day." His owl hooted and the two of them walked down the street together.

Harry quickly stopped at the nearest 7-11 beside the subway and picked up an onigiri for himself. As he paid, his eyes started to wander around the neat store before they landed on some phone charms.

 _I'll probably need a phone,_ Harry thought, placing his money on the small tray. _They'll expect that from me at this day and age, and I should have enough for a yearly plan…_

Harry grabbed his onigiri and tea, closed up his wallet, and gave a short bow to the employee as they gave him the typical, "Thank you, please come again!"

He took a detour at the electronics store and got himself a small phone that didn't do much more than text and call. Harry stepped outside of the store while flipping through his phone. Not long after he went outside, Hedwig landed on his shoulder again.

"Look, Hedwig!" Harry said, showing his owl his new phone. She gave him several hoots. "It's not as nice as Dudley's, but it gets the job done." He took the phone back and started to memorize the number. _I wonder if Hermione has a phone, or Dean. Seamus said that his dad was a muggle, maybe he has a phone too._

Harry and Hedwig went under several yellowing trees that were losing their colors to the autumn season. The cool air refreshed them from the warmth of the sun that was high in the sky. People were at school and at work, so it was only him, stragglers, and the elderly that was hanging around at this time. Birds chirped in the peaceful air and Hedwig occasionally joined in on the bird's song.

Even though Harry went at a leisurely pace, he made it to U.A. in no time. The large H-shaped building stood high in the sky and Harry's jaw dropped at the sight. Every glass window reflected the blue sky above and Harry was brought back to the Great Hall's ceiling. He closed his mouth after several seconds passed, but his eyes still held awe. This was really his first time seeing it, because when Harry left on Saturday evening he didn't bother looking back.

"It's not Hogwarts," Harry slowly said, testing the words on his tongue, "but it's still pretty incredible. I wonder what the H stands for though. Hero?"

Hoot. Hoot.

Harry looked at her with amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"H for Harry?" he repeated.

Hoot. Click. Nudge.

"Like on my sweater?" Harry asked, looking down at his Weasley jumper. He laughed. "Maybe it's H for Hedwig!"

Trill and an incredulous look.

Harry laughed at his owl and patted her on the head. They stopped at the gates, and Harry looked down at his feet when the soles of his sneakers rolled into something.

"Dirt...?" Harry softly asked aloud. He bent down to get a closer look. Harry looked at Hedwig strangely. "You'd think that a prestigious school like U.A. would bother sweeping the front of their school." Hedwig flapped her wings in the owl equivalent of a shrug.

"Oh well," Harry said, standing up again and straightening out his clothes. "Do you want to go hunting now?" Harry asked. Hedwig nodded and nipped softly at his fingers before taking flight. Harry stopped to watch her until she disappeared from view. Now that he was alone, he took a deep breath and gripped his school bag tighter.

Harry took his first step forward as an official U.A. student.

* * *

 _Even though they're a prestigious hero school, they still do a lot of regular school things_ , Harry mused as he walked out of the office, holding a paper shopping bag. Inside were three pairs of his new uniform and two pairs of his new gym uniform. Even now he couldn't help comparing U.A. and Hogwarts. At least he filled his paperwork out on regular paper and not on parchment, but he was expecting a tablet of some sort. Harry had to go into the front office to take a quick picture for his student I.D. and to finish filling out his information.

Harry filled in his legal name, his age, birthdate, where he was currently staying, his gender and so on. They were all so manual and mundane that he was almost caught off guard when the registration form asked him for his previous school information and his family information.

The breath in his lungs slowed and he gripped the pen in his hands tighter.

He stared at the paper for a while, thankful that the woman behind the desk was busy shuffling other files and typing on the computer.

After several minutes, Harry adjusted the pen in his hands and wrote down his elementary school's name, but put a big cross across the blank spaces that asked for his junior high's name..

The Gryffindor scribbled across the family information in messy characters—none—he was an orphan with no guardian.

Harry speedily pushed the papers together and shuffled them into a neat pile before clearing his throat and handing it to the woman. He could only manage a stiff nod and bow before he walked off to his next destination.

But two flights of stairs and seven corners later, Harry mentally kicked himself for not picking up a map earlier. He felt déjà vu wash over him when he remembered that he was in this position before in his first year. Except everyone was in class now, and there were no talking portraits, moving staircases, or castle walls.

Harry trekked down a long, white hallway with large doors adorning his left side, and wide windows decorating his right. The doors were marked with a 3-A, 3-B, 3-C, and so on. Harry looked frustratedly down at his paper that told him to go to the teacher's lounge, but they didn't tell him what floor or where the teacher's lounge was.

Just then, one of the doors opened and a tall blond boy shuffled out.

Harry looked up just then and realized that he had no other choice but to ask for help.

"Umm, excuse me," the wizard politely called out, holding up his hand, "are you busy? Can you help me find my way around the school?"

The blond turned around at the sound of Harry's voice and instantly beamed at the sight of him. A gasp left the older teen's lips and he came up closer at a speed Harry was barely able to follow.

"Ah! A foreigner!" he gaped with a large smile, almost as if he had never seen an outsider in Japan before. "I'd love to help!" The blond stuck his hand out for Harry to shake. "I'm Togata Mirio and I'm a third-year! It's nice to meet you!"

Harry shook his surprisingly firm hand and gave the upperclassman a small smile of his own. Togata Mirio was tall with a built, large body that Harry could see through the blond's school uniform. His blond hair was smoothly slicked up into a cowlick, and he had a simple-looking, rounded face.

"I'm Potter Harry...I'm supposed to go to the teacher's lounge...but I don't know where it is…" Harry started out, and Togata's face lit up with recognition.

"It's on the first floor! You must've missed it!" Togata started to walk ahead and looked back to wave Harry with him. "Come on! I'll show you, and give you a small tour of your classes as well!"

"Oh, thank you, Togata-senpai." Harry politely bowed as he followed the quick steps that the taller blond made.

"It's no problem at all! I'm happy to help!"

The two stayed in comfortable silence until they hit their first flight of stairs. Togata made his way down them at a quick pace that would've knocked everyone over if he was a Hogwarts student, and he turned around midway. "Are you a student here?" the teenager asked happily. Harry nodded as he watched his steps.

"I'm a first-year transfer student from England."

"England!" The way Togata said it made England sound like the happiest place on Earth. "That's so cool!" Harry smiled, infected by this teenager's happy-go-lucky personality; even if it was a little bit over the top. Harry felt like the teen was sincere.

"The first-years this year must be so lucky!" Togata said wistfully as he led Harry to the bathrooms, then to the library and cafeteria. "We didn't have a transfer program in our year! I'd love to be classmates with someone from another country! I heard that the heroes from America are really energetic!"

The rest of the ten minutes went by like that, with Togata quickly leading Harry to destinations that he would need later on while chatting up a storm.

The third-year went on to say that he was so glad that Harry's Japanese was so good, because he wasn't very good at English himself, and asked questions about Harry's life back in his home country.

Togata pointed out everything Harry needed to know from the third-year floor and down to the ground floor. As they came closer to the door of the teacher's lounge, Togata's face lit up as if he had just remembered something.

"Ah!" the older teen said. "I just remembered that I was excused to go to the bathroom!" He smiled goofily anyway and put a hand to the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm just feeling so giddy right now! I've never had a European friend before!"

Harry laughed at his enthusiasm, he really couldn't help it. The blond's laugh was just as infectious as his smile. "I'd say that we're friends, Togata-senpai!"

"Really! You're my friend too, kohai! I better get going or else my teacher will yell at me, but if you need anything just ask around for me, alright?! I'll see you later!"

The wizard waved as the boy dashed off. "Bye, senpai!" Once Togata turned the corner and was out of sight, Harry turned back to the door of the teacher's lounge and knocked once.

"Please come in!" Nezu's high-pitched voice said from beyond the door.

"Please excuse me," Harry muttered as he opened the door and stepped in.

The room was a soft, light pink color with a cream carpet. Nezu sat by himself in the middle of an olive couch, completely dwarfed by the furniture around him.

He walked to the empty spot on the couch Nezu patted. A wooden coffee table was in between them and the blond man, holding up an electronic water kettle, a basket full of tea bags, and a small tray. "Good afternoon, Principal. Sorry I'm late…"

"It's no problem at all! Here, sit, sit! Do you want something to drink, Potter-kun?" Nezu said, gesturing to the tea bags and the electric kettle. Harry shook his head.

"No thank you…"

"So how are you liking our school, Potter-kun?" Nezu asked, lifting a teacup up to his lips.

"It's nice," Harry replied. "I'm almost surprised at how high tech and new everything is..."

"That's good! One of U.A.'s proudest features include our state-of-the-art technology," the principal commented. "You filled in all of the paperwork at the office, correct?"

Harry nodded. "The lady at the front desk told me to go here…"

"Yup! Your entrance to this school was so last minute that we had a bit of trouble trying to place you in your classes." Nezu pulled out a slip of paper from his pockets and urged Harry to unfold it. Inside was his schedule, and from the top of the paper Harry saw that he was in class 1-A, the hero class and that his teacher was Aizawa-sensei, the tired man from earlier.

"We eventually decided to give you the normal U.A. student experience! You will be going to regular classes just like the rest of your first-year peers. Your Japanese is so impressive, and I'm sure that you will excel in English class with Mic, but if you get confused anytime just ask your teacher!"

Harry slowly nodded, but he never looked back at Nezu.

"You're excused from classes today," Nezu said cheerfully. "Aizawa brought his students to the U.S.J. Facility for rescue training, so after you turn in your costume sketch to the Department of Support you're free to go for the day!"

"Huh?" Harry looked down at the small principal. "Really? I'm excused?"

"Mhm," Nezu nodded. "There's no point in keeping you here until the school day ends. Unless you have any questions or you want to roam the halls some more, you're free to stay!"

"It's fine," Harry said, picking up his school bag from the couch and standing up. Harry bowed politely to the two adults. "Thank you for everything, Principal. I'll take my leave now, please excuse me."

Harry threw the bag strap over his shoulder and took one look back before closing the door of the teacher's lounge.

* * *

Harry tried to muster the politest smile possible as he walked backwards out of the Development Studio. Yet the tell-tale signs of his twitching smile gave away his true feelings. A Pro came out of the room and harshly pushed the eccentric pink-haired student that was about to corner Harry back into the room with a loud bark.

Harry didn't even know that he was supposed to make a hero costume until Nezu mentioned it, and so he came to the Department of Support at a loss.

As the "transfer student" everyone was intrigued about what Harry was coming up with and wanted to help. A pink-haired student almost strapped him up in a new suit of her own creation until she was held back by her teacher.

In the end, Harry sat at a workdesk in the corner of the room while the Support students went back to work and tinkered around him. A lamp stood over him, bent over a blank sheet of paper and a pencil.

He doubted that they could make a hero suit that could repel spells—not unless Harry gave them dragon skin, but he didn't want to deal with the conversation that would come after that.

It would have to be long-sleeved, something that could hide his wand well, and maybe something flowy like robes. Maybe red and gold for homesickness?

The pencil ended up moving by itself and Harry ended up with a sketch that resembled his quidditch robes almost to a T, with small differences sprinkling throughout it. The Gryffindor realized that he had no other inspiration or ideas popping up in his mind, so he shook his head and turned in the paper anyway.

Back outside the Development Studio, Harry bowed to the Pro Hero.

"Thank you for your help, Power Loader-san."

The Pro waved his hand and continued scanning the paper.

"It's no problem at all, Potter-kun! We'll get your costume to you within two weeks," the Pro Hero informed.

"You can take your time," the wizard insisted.

"It's alright." The Pro lifted up a finger to his temple to scratch. "Your design is really simple actually! Other than durability and protection, don't you want any more features in your costume."

Harry shook his head.

"That's all I can think of right now," Harry said sheepishly. "And my Quirk isn't very flashy…"

"Alright! But if you think of anything later, come by the Development Studio!" Power Loader waved to Harry and turned around to enter the classroom. The two thanked each other again with small bows until Harry completely spun around and went down the hall.

Deciding that there was enough excitement for the day, Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to his hotel room after picking up another dinner at the convenience store and nodding off for the night. Harry stepped down the bright, clean stairs in front of U.A.'s entrance two steps at a time with his hand firmly on the strap of his bag.

Harry walked a little bit further in circles, scanning the skies for Hedwig. Once he was off in a corner that was shaded by the trees, Harry lifted his head up to the skies and looked left and right for any flash of white, completely ignoring what was happening down belong.

In a flash, all of the breath was suddenly knocked out of Harry and he was tackled down the ground. His glasses were knocked clean off his face and the person that ran into him cursed loudly, picking themselves off the wizard to look for their glasses as well. Harry realized that it was just another student, from what he could hear and see through his blurry eyes, and lowered his hands from his wand.

"My apologies!" the other teen said, giving Harry his glasses back. The wizard lifted up his hand and slowly put his glasses back on. Harry looked up and took their outstretched hand. Now that he could see, Harry saw a tall boy with neatly parted back hair and rectangular glasses. He wore a hero suit that was made up of white armor over a black jumpsuit and what looked like engines. The teen was panting loudly from exertion and his voice and eyes were wide with panic. "I'm afraid I won't be able to apologize better, but I must get going! There has been an attack—!"

"An attack?!" Harry gasped, unconsciously stepping in front of the other team from running off.

"Yes!" the teen shouted, adjusting his glasses. "We were on Recovery Training, but then the League of Villains arrived—"

"League of Villains?!" The whites of Harry's eyes became more visible. "Where?" the Gryffindor demanded. "Where is the attack—?"

"At the U.S.J. Facility over there—!" Iida lifted up a hand to gesture to a towering, rounded building off into the distance, but before the class president could continue, or even stop Harry, the wizard's legs moved on their own.

"Wait! Who are you?!" Iida couldn't help but yell out, even when Harry was in a mad sprint towards a far-off building. Harry turned around only once.

"I'll help! Principal Nezu should be in the teacher's lounge, go there!"

He didn't wait for a reply and only whipped his head around once more, his wild, black hair hitting his forehead.

Harry didn't know the situation, what was going on, or who was in there, but at the word, "attack," his legs moved on their own.

* * *

Nomu reared his ugly head and focused on the only off-guard, unprotected student in the area. He lifted his hand back, and before the blond even had time to react, a large jet of energy sped towards Bakugo Katsuki before the teen could even turn his head around. It zoomed across the courtyard, knocking the trees back, crumbling the concrete, and shot like a shooting star.

The large jet hit its target, and spread upwards upon impact like a stream of water. The intense crash was powerful enough to leave aftershocks, nearly knocking the teens Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijiro, and Todoroki Shoto off their feet from strong winds.

" _Kacchan_!" Izuku cried out in an earsplitting shout.

The dust and wind cleared right after like a wave crashing on a rock, and all of the weight left Izuku's shoulders when he saw that Bakugou Katsuki was perfectly unharmed. His hair was tousled, sweat dripped down his skin, and he was knocked over on his butt, but his wide eyes were glued to the figure in front of him.

"Kacchan!" Izuku cried again, this time in relief. His shoulders slumped visibly. "I can't believe you stopped that!"

"I-I didn't! Shut up…!" Bakugou shouted uncharastically in a shaky voice. The hot-blooded student looked like he saw a ghost right in front of him.

"Then who—" Eijiro tried to say. He whirled his head around.

 _I...couldn't even see a thing…!_ Katsuki gritted his teeth.

"Young Potter…!" All Might said, solace filing the teacher's voice as well. Everyone's eyes widened at the sound of the newcomer's name. "You have great timing…!"

Smoke dispersed completely before their eyes, and a black-haired teen stood before then, protectively in front of Katsuki. The students gaped.

Harry Potter slowly looked up at All Might. The wizard's hair was blown back from the harsh winds, knees bent from skidding across the cement until his soles were paper thin, and his sleeves were holding on by messy strings of yarn. Harry lowered his outstretched arms and looked up at the blinding image of his new teacher being silhouetted by the sun through the glass.

Harry's hands were balled into fists and he glared straight on at the League of Villains. Heavy pants left his mouth and his chest heaved under the thick sweater he was wearing.

"...Just like a real Hero!" the number one hero praised.

Shigaraki Tomura's eyes widened past the lanky fingers attached to his face.

 _He was able to protect the kid…!_

Red eyes met with green.

 _Potter Harry..._!


	8. Chapter Seven

Harry sprinted across the yard and barreled up to U.S.J.'s grand doors, with a loud skid as he ran his rubber soles against the ground. He forced to stop himself for a quick breather. His heart beat uncomfortably fast from the distance that he had just charged and his knees were already wobbly and weak.

 _That must've been like running across four Quidditch pitches,_ Harry wheezed, looking back at the empty street that he just took. Beating himself up for wasting time, Harry pushed against the gigantic double doors with all of his might and opened the doors to the villain takeover.

It was utter chaos.

People were scattered all over on all types of terrain spanning across the large training grounds. The people closest to the door were either battling thugs, and these two girls were kneeling over what looked like a puffy spacesuit that was completely ripped from the back. His green eyes skimmed over the area from his spot on top of the stairs and a choke lodged itself into his throat when he saw Eraserhead, bloody and beaten, being carried by a slouched over girl with dark hair and a small boy with what looked like large purple grapes on his head.

"Eraserhead!" Harry shouted, instantly breaking into a sprint down the stairs. Both students and villains stared at him as he took two steps at a time, wondering whose side he was on. He eventually skid to kneel beside the black-haired teacher, ignoring the gapes from the two students that were carrying him. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

He held back the instinct to pull out his wand to cast a quick Episkey on his new homeroom teacher, and just focused his eyes on the man.

"Potter," Aizawa said weakly, looking up at him from askew yellow goggles and fuzzy eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I ran into another student on the way here," Harry hurriedly said, "so I came! What can I do to help?"

"Forget it," Aizawa said, his fingers grasping and releasing the empty air as his stress spiked up again. "All Might already came through here—"

"All Might?" Harry gasped. Eraserhead opened his mouth to talk, maybe to stop the wizard from running to more danger, but then a large crash appeared from the center of the training grounds and Harry's head shot up. Goosebumps raised up on his arms exactly like that moment before, when Ginny shattered the Hall of Prophecy and set smoke and white steam over them like a blanket. Harry's head lifted with the line of smoke that arose. Before Eraserhead could stop him, Harry stood up and already started to run.

"Potter, no!" Eraserhead tried to shout, but then he turned his body and accidentally agitated his injured elbow, making him hiss. The grape boy shouted out in response. "Don't!" his new teacher barked. "They have a new member with the people that you fought before! You'll—"

"Don't worry, Aizawa-sensei," Harry said, turning around just this once. "Everything's going to be alright!"

The Pro-Hero couldn't help his eyes from widening at the back of the boy.

Harry ran up to the center with as much speed as his legs could muster, and in that split second, it seemed like everything slowed.

There was a humanoid that looked more like a monster than anything, with a visible brain and bulging eyes that were nearly popping out of their sockets. Faster than the eye could see, the monster punched the air and sent a large jet of air towards an unknowing, blond boy that was on his knees. The gale could tear through the ground like it was wet clay, it had aftershocks like a hurricane.

Harry's heart jolted, and before he could even have a rational thought cross his mind, Harry's curved his run towards the blond student. He needed to be fast, he needed to go faster, or else there was no way that he would be able to catch up in time—

He—

Vanished.

Harry disappeared from his spot with a loud snapping sound that was instantly muffled by the wind, and appeared right in front of the student within a blink of an eye.

Harry pushed the feeling of being squeezed through a tube down to the back of his mind and brandished his wand. With everything in his lungs and all of the magic that he had, Harry looked at the jet dead on.

" _Protego Maxima_!"

* * *

"Damn," Shigaraki muttered, scratching his neck with enough force to cause white marks along the dry skin. "It's you again."

"Yeah," Harry spat out the moment the wind and smoke finally settled, leaving only the stillness of the strained air. His wild, unruly hair fell back down over his forehead, covering the infamous lightning bolt scar upon his brow. "It's me again." The Boy-Who-lived grit his teeth at the man who he didn't expect to see so soon.

Shigaraki clicked his tongue at Harry's snappy response and continued to scratch his neck. "That move was impressive at least," the villain murmured, and it grated on Harry's nerves how he sounded so unbothered. "Anything to save a comrade right?" The hand that was clawing at dead skin dropped and Tomura pointed at someone in the cluster of boys behind Harry. "Just like earlier when...uh...that one." Everyone zeroed in on the unfortunate teenager. "The plain one."

Harry turned around and he met eyes with a jumpy boy who quickly looked away from him. His hair was just as messy as Harry's but was tinted in dark green. The boy's rounded face held a scatter of freckles and his eyes were wide with slight fear. Unlike the others, he was dressed in the school's P.E. uniform with a low mask hanging around his neck.

He looked so familiar, but Harry for the life of him couldn't figure out why.

The teenagers pulled their attention away from the newcomer and turned their eyes to Midoriya Izuku. The situation caught up with them and they put their curiosity about the strange foreigner in the back of their mind for now. If All Might wasn't cautious of them, they had nothing to worry about.

"He came at me with all he had," the villain continued. "But violence in the name of saving others is admirable. Isn't it, hero?"

Up above, All Might grit his white, straight teeth and the stretch of skin from the hero's clenched fists was heard. The blood in Harry's veins started to boil as Shigaraki continued to go on and on about heroes and villains, and the violence that branched the two of them.

Harry's muscles stiffened underneath his torn sweater and sweat started to trickle down his neck at the villain's speech.

 _That's something Tom would say.._.Harry thought, his outside solid and serious, but his inward feelings wavered.

"That's a load of hooey," All Might finally said. That broad smile and those sunken eyes remained strong like a statue. "Idealistic criminals have a different sort of fire in their eyes…" All eyes turned back to the villain. "But you're just enjoying yourself, you big liar."

Shigaraki sneered underneath that severed hand. "Saw right through…" he whispered, "You got me." The air shifted from uncertainty after several seconds.

"It's three on six," a confident voice claimed. Harry whirled his head back to get his first good look at the students. Todoroki Shoto's heterochromatic eyes shifted toward Harry the moment the wizard looked back for the owner of the voice.

"Kacchan showed us the mist man's weak point!" the "plain" kid shouted in a wobbly voice, clenching his fists.

"These are some brutal dudes, but with us supporting All Might...We can beat 'em back!" the teenager with the spiked, firetruck-red hair declared.

"No! Get out of here!" All Might threw his arm out and turned his head. Harry's lower lip dropped at the muscular man's declaration.

"Things wouldn't have gone so well if I hadn't just stepped in," the teen with the split red-and-white hair calmly protested. He spoke with a confidence that made Harry think of Blaise Zabini.

"All Might!" the green-haired boy shouted. "You're bleeding! And I think your time is u—!"

"You are right, Todoroki!" All Might cut him off in that same boisterous, confident tone. "So thanks for that!" All Might turned his clenched fists towards them. "But never fear! Sit back and watch a Pro get serious!"

Up ahead, the dark mist from the villain swirled ominously. Even though the heart in Harry's chest started to beat harder, Harry shifted his stance to prepare for battle.

"Nomu. Kurogiri. Take him." Lanky blue strands of hair fell between pale fingers. Shigaraki's eyes looked dead on at Harry's unwavering ones. "I'll take the kids."

In a heartbeat, with a strong jump off one leg and an instant lunge, Shigaraki was heading towards them. Harry's heart leaped from missing the action and he froze up.

"He's coming! Get ready guys!" the redheaded boy shouted, hardening his skin until it was jagged like stone. He grabbed the back of Harry's collar and yanked him into the line that the other boys were standing in, bringing him back to earth.

"Thank you!" Harry shouted quickly and breathlessly the moment his reflexes returned. The shirtless boy only beamed at Harry in response.

But the attack never came.

All Might heroically shielded all of them from Shigaraki's incoming assault, but following him was Nomu right on his tail. Faster than any snitch that Harry saw move, even the one from the Quidditch World Cup, the two's fists collided with each other and a sonic boom blew Harry's eardrums out.

Without even giving anyone else a chance to catch up, the monster and the hero fought ruthlessly with each other, punching as if there was no tomorrow.

"A head-on assault?!" the green-haired boy cried, crossing his forearms in front of him as a shield from the relentless wind that the two were causing.

The image of the two, neck-and-neck, faster than fast, was almost too amazing for everyone to try and look away.

Harry however, was struck with the sudden reminder that the threat of Shigaraki was still alive. Through the crazy wind and debris that was drying out his eyes and was tossing itself around, Harry's head whipped back and forth for the sight of the pale man. When he finally found him, standing just beyond the battling pair, Harry charged.

The wizard lept into the air and held out his arm mid-leap.

A head full of shaggy, blue hair looked up and red eyes widened.

" _Stupefy_!" Harry shouted.

The villain jumped away just in time, and the spell slammed against the concrete with nothing more than leaving simple loose tiles in its wake. Harry landed on the cracked ground mere moments later and charged at the villain right after.

Arms and hands were thrown out, and the two danced around each other trying to land hits without being touched by the other's hand.

Harry threw his palm forward, pushing his magic to cast a defensive charm, but his hand was narrowly missed by Shigaraki swiftly turning his body and moving to the side. Right after, Shigaraki lurched forward and with expert skill, he grabbed Harry's outstretched hand first. Without letting the boy understand the situation, Shigaraki kicked Harry's legs forward and grabbed his other arm. With unknown strength for someone so skinny, the villain managed to pull both of Harry's arms behind him and subdue the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry was bent forward and cried out in pain when Shigaraki pulled harder on the arms. Only two raised index fingers stopped Harry's arms from completely disintegrating.

"Damn, you're annoying," the pale villain commented. "And I'm so pissed off at you too—But you should consider yourself lucky. _He's_ been thinking about you...for the League of Villains—" Shigaraki had leaned forward until he was whispering against Harry's ear. A cold shiver ran down his spine the moment the man's warm breath tickled the shell of his ear. Sweat trickled down Harry's temple and his blood dropped to zero degrees when he realized that weight of the villain's words.

"I don't want anything to do with your League!" Harry mustered up all of his Gryffindor courage to snap back. In less than a second, Harry shouted out, his voice lost in the wind, when Shigaraki carelessly popped both of Harry's arms out of their sockets.

"You're lucky that Master's interested in you…" Shigaraki dropped Harry's now-useless right arm and hovered his own hand in front of the wizard's neck. Two icy cold taps from freezing fingers made every muscle in Harry's body tense up. "Or else you'd be gone in a second. But I wonder...I've only ever seen you use your Quirk with your right hand...If it would be harmless if I did away with your left arm?"

Fear gripped Harry's heart and he immediately started to breathe heavily. Thoughts raced throughout Harry's head for escapes or ways to save himself from this situation, but his wand arm was useless and his body was compromised.

Just when he was starting to lose hope, a loud boom sound shook the training grounds and the shatter of glass immediately followed. Harry looked up to see that All Might had punched Nomu clean out of the water, sending the creature flying out of U.S.J. and up into the stratosphere.

"You cheated…!" Shigaraki spoke up in the silence that blanketed the area right after. Harry acted the second the villain dropped his guard and kicked himself away from the pale man. Shigaraki didn't seem to care as he stared up at All Might with a strange look in his eyes. Eyes went from Harry, but went back up to the blue-haired man, stemming from surprise at how they had completely missed how Harry had gotten himself in that situation in the first place. "We're completely outmatched...How dare you do that to my Nomu…?" His voice shook with a childish tantrum on the rise. "You cheater!"

Both of Shigaraki's hands began to scratch at his neck and skin. "He's not weak at all!" the villain cried to himself. "They...They _lied_ to me?!"

Steam started to fill the area, but it looked like it was coming from...All Might?

"Well?" the number one hero asked. "What are you waiting for?" Those darkened eyes narrowed until the blue within shined like headlights. "If you can take me…! Then bring it on!"

A visible shudder ran down Shigaraki's spine and the man slumped forward.

"Come here!" Two strong hands suddenly lifted Harry off the floor and patted the dirt off his clothes. Harry was face-to-face with the redheaded boy. Harry's ears were still ringing and even though the other boy was right beside Harry, his voice was muffled. "You can walk, right?" Harry dumbly nodded and the boy quickly led Harry to the crowd of teenagers.

"What you did was manly, but we oughta hang back!" the boy said. "You too!" He turned to the green-haired boy who looked fearfully up at All Might.

But it wasn't fear _of_ the Pro-Hero. It was fear _for_ him.

"Right…" Harry looked down at his limp arms and narrowed his eyes when he saw his wand holster peeking out from beyond loose yarn. "We're not ready for this level yet."

Yet the shortest of them all couldn't tear his eyes away from the pair of conversing villains and the Pro-Hero who stood tall.

"All Might will take care of the big ones," the redhead continued with a wave of his hand, "we should see if we can go help the others."

The other boys silently nodded, but the half-and-half boy stopped in his tracks.

The short, freckled teen remained frozen in his spot. Large beads of sweat dripped down his sun-kissed skin and his curly bangs shadowed his eyes.

He murmured to himself like a madman.

"Are you—" the split man tried to say.

"I'm...the only one who knows…!" the small teen cried out in a soft, weak voice. Their hearts nearly lept out of their chest when they had to pull their focus away from the nervous student.

"This revenge is for Nomu!" the villains suddenly shouted. Heads whipped towards the two criminals and they widened their eyes. In a flash, they charged at the Pro-Hero.

With that, the nervous student disappeared from his spot and sailed through the air like a hero out of a comic.

However, Harry caught the sight of the boy's useless legs and the outstretched hand of Shigaraki.

"Get away...from All Might…!"

"Wait!" Harry desperately cried out in English. He stepped forward, but with his dislocated shoulders, his arms could only hang limply.

" _Bang!_ "

Green eyes widened the moment a bullet sailed cleanly over his ear and right into Shigaraki's hand.

"They're here!" All Might shouted.

Harry whirled his head around and a soft gasp escaped his lips.

"Sorry, everyone…" an unusually dark tone decorated a normally light voice. "We're a little late."

President Nezu stood on top of the stairs with a large crowd of Pros flanking him on either side.

"But we brought everyone we could!"

* * *

" _Chuu!_ "

Harry's right eye closed on reflex the moment the little old nurse landed a kiss above his brow. The moment her lips touched his skin, Harry felt as if he was suddenly blanketed in a large throw, covering himself in warmth. When Recovery Girl leaned back, Harry noticed that the ringing in his ears was gone and his shoulders were back in their sockets.

He stood up and lifted up both arms in amazement, cranking his shoulders to test it further. There was absolutely no pain.

 _That was almost as fast as Madam Pomfrey_ , the Boy-Who-Lived thought in amazement.

The Gryffindor turned to the nurse with a large smile. He gave her a perfect ninety-degree bow.

"Thank you, Recovery Girl!" Harry said.

"No problem at all, dear," the little nurse said in an endearing feeble voice. She pulled out a pen from her pocket and started to jot down notes. "Are you still sore anywhere? Any pain?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said in a rehearsed tone. The senior hummed in response, and continued to scribble down on her notes anyway. Harry waited in silence for her to excuse him, but he started to fidget with his fingers as she continued to write without a word.

After what seemed like five minutes of just waiting, Recovery Girl spoke up again.

"Do you have a physical from your last school or a doctor, Potter-kun?" the little old lady kindly asked.

Harry tilted his head. "A physical?" he asked. He tried to think of all the times he was in the Hospital Wing (and that was more than he could count on one hand) and he never heard Pomfrey mention a physical. "No," he finally said. "Never."

"What about your last checkup with a doctor?" she asked. That nanosecond pause didn't escape Harry. He shook his head anyway.

"I've never been to a doctor," he admitted honestly. "Only the school nurse..."

It seemed like that was enough for her to lose her "calm and grandmotherly" composure. Her pen stopped scribbling on the papers and she finally looked up at him to stare into his large eyes.

"Never been to a doctor?" she asked, trying to keep down her incredulous voice. "What about your childhood immunizations?" He shook his head again, sending his black hair swaying with the movement.

"I...don't think I've ever been threatened by the flu or chickenpox as a kid," Harry said. There were times when his temperature did rise dangerously, but Aunt Petunia and the Dursleys never bothered to even think about taking him to a doctor. If he looked back now, he would bet that his magic helped him more than he gave it credit for. "I don't remember being sick most of the time anyway."

She looked like she wanted to ask more, but then she turned her pupils to the beds at the end of the room and gave in to something.

"If you really are feeling alright," she said, her voice reluctant and held back, "you're free to go."

Harry stood up the second she said that and gave her another bow and thanks. A sigh of relief left his mouth the moment she let him go; he was internally thanking Merlin that she wasn't like Pomfrey in the sense that the old witch liked to hold her patients hostage.

"But!" He was one foot out the door and he knew it was too good to be true. He turned around again and asked what it was as politely as he could. She lowered her outstretched hand and faced him. "There will be a school-wide event coming up, and for it, you're going to be needing a physical. On top of the height and weight tests that I already gave you anyway." She quickly wrote something down and ripped it off to hand it to him. "In the next week, come back into my room any time. You'll be excused from your classes, and I'll give you a physical and your immunizations."

Harry took the paper and carefully folded it before he placed it in his pocket. With an approving nod, she told him that he was officially excused now.

Weight lifted off his shoulders and he left the nurse's office happily.

Recovery Girl waited until the door clicked closed and the soft footsteps disappeared completely before she turned to the drawn curtains in the nurse's office.

"You two can stop pretending now!" she called out, and two loud gasps for breath followed. She stood up and drew the curtains back to reveal bandaged All Might and Midoriya Izuku.

"You didn't have to hold your breaths!" she scolded as the two started to get color back in their faces.

* * *

"That is all for now," Nezu said, directing his voice toward the many Pros that were sitting in the teacher's meeting room. Silence fell throughout the room and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The weight of the League of Villain's threat was still hanging dangerously over everyone's shoulders. The normally light air between the Pros was weighted with the thought of three of their Heroes nearly losing their lives for the kids.

Even the simple sight of the three empty seats belonging to All Might, Eraserhead, and Thirteen was enough to make everyone go uneasy.

"Ah, Tsukauchi-san," the principal suddenly said, turning to the detective at the other end of the long, U-shaped table. "Did you catch up with Potter-kun before he went home?"

"Yes," the brunet said, nodding. "He was perfectly healed by Recovery Girl."

"Did he tell you anything?" Nezu asked.

The detective directed his eyes down and paused for a second. Eventually, he nodded again. "Yes...I asked him to tell me everything that happened during the attack, and he told me about the Iida student telling him about the attack, and then…" The detective looked up. "He told me that the League of Villains were interested in him and his Quirk."

Shouts immediately filled the meeting room, with one trying to talk over others in surprise.

"The League of Villains?!"

"After the transfer student?!"

Only Nezu remained silent, but everyone saw from the look on his face that a million thoughts were racing throughout his head as the gears turned.

The room eventually was forced to settle down after seconds of looking at twisted expressions and they all turned toward the principal in wait.

"After he was taken to the nurse's office by All Might a week ago," Nezu eventually said, "we decided to look up some background information on Potter Harry." The rodent paused for a while before continuing. "...There wasn't any."

The jaws of the Pro-Heroes dropped once more and more choked sounds of surprise spilled out of the teachers of U.A. Nezu and Tsukauchi stayed in wait for the shock to fly past everyone's system, but they weren't surprised at their reactions either. They only people who had known about Potter Harry's situation were Recovery Girl, Present Mic, Eraserhead, All Might, and Tsukauchi-san at the time.

Present Mic and Tsukauchi was the one in charge of looking up the basic information, as they has to do for all of the students that wanted admittance. When the loud hero's eyes landed on more blanks than actual writing, the boisterous blond nearly fell out of his chair in astonishment and almost blew everyone's eardrums out in a twenty meter radius.

Potter Harry told the detective that he had come Japan months before, yet there were absolutely no sightings of him at any airport or dock, nor were there any papers that said that he had used a plane or a boat to get from England all the way to Japan. Either Potter had taken a private mode of transportation, traveled here under a different identity, or had known someone with a Quirk that could travel long distances. It was even more frustrating to know that this wasn't even the strangest of it all.

Having Harry turn in an admission sheet was just to see how much information he was willing to give out, but they had already given him a background check days before. Just like how they expected, Potter had only given out what they already knew.

Harry James Potter, 172 cm, fifty-four kg, born July thirty-first, and etc. With a school as prestigious as U.A., getting his information was no chore. However, Nezu could barely say that his statement was an exaggeration. Potter had no parents, only an aunt, and uncle that were labeled as his guardians, but even then he didn't put them down in his info sheet. Information was easy to obtain until the day he left primary school. It seemed as if after he turned eleven, Harry Potter ceased to exist. No school records, no sightings of him for school years on end, and even during summers there was barely any sight of him.

The strangest of all was the fact that in the official papers, Harry Potter was labeled as Quirkless.

Unlike Japan, the United Kingdom's heroes were all united under one agency: the government. Every job, every assignment, all of the interns, sidekicks, and heroes were under the government's regulation instead of having agencies sprinkled around the country while Heroes pick up missions and emergency calls off a bulletin board. The government also had the responsibility of sending out "Quirk readers" to file down everyone's Quirk, whether they had obtained it at that age or not, and they were hardly ever wrong.

Maybe they would overestimate or had summarized the Quirk incorrectly, but never far off. Not like this anyway. Yet here he was, wielding a Quirk when he should, by all means, be powerless.

Meaning that someone had tampered with Harry Potter's official documents.

Tsukauchi told them all of this, his tone professional and clear even though the guilt gnawed at him for betraying Harry's trust like this. Potter might've had a shady or mysterious background, but he was still a kid. Nezu helpfully filled in some of the information that they had obtained, and the teachers listened with thoughtful silence.

The more the two talked, the more unbelievable the boy seemed, almost as if his life was straight out of a comic book. The heavy silence lingered even after the two figures in front finished.

"But sir…" Ishiyama Ken, or Cementoss, finally said, holding up a blocky, grey hand, "if Potter really is this much trouble, why did you take him in as a student?" Murmurs floated around the room in agreement.

Tsukauchi gave the room a sheepish smile in response.

"See, that's where it gets a bit complicated…"

"Five hours after he arrived at the nurse's office, I kindly asked Aizawa-san to go pick up his glasses and give them to Power Loader to repair," the rodent-like creature said, "and as Aizawa-san was about to leave...Potter woke up."

Eyes widened, but no one said anything, so the principal continued.

"The boy wasn't fully conscious," he said, linking his paws behind his back, "but he had looked up at Aizawa-san, and Aizawa-said that the boy had called him Black Sirius. 'Almost like I was family.'"

"Sirius?!"

"Black Sirius? From the UK?!" The room rose in an uproar again, the name of the infamous _mass murderer_ rattling in their brains. Everyone knew who he was. The UK had a large backlash from around the world for not being able to save those people, then once more for letting him escape imprisonment.

Tsukauchi cleared his throat among the noise.

"It seems like everyone is already aware of who Black Sirius is," the detective said, fixing the hat upon his head, "but just in case, I will refresh everyone's memory." Dark eyes looked up underneath the shadow of his rimmed hat.

"Black Sirius was a criminal from England who was famous for the murder of thirteen people fifteen years ago. As of three years ago, he had escaped from a high-security prison that the UK government refuses to disclose the name of, and a mere three months ago...they had reported that he had died."

"What's more…" Nezu paused to reach into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a beaten, folded newspaper.

He held it up for the room to see and unfolded it to reveal the headlines, "The Hunt For England's Sirius Black is Over."

"He had this in his jacket pocket the night we found him."

"It's all wishful thinking now," Tsukauchi quickly tried to reassure the room. Immediately all shouts of outrage ceased. "There is no solid evidence that Potter-kun was associated with Black, but…" He turned to the tiny principal warily, who was rolling up that newspaper once more.

"All Might was worried," the creature's voice said, "that we might have a villain on our hands."

The words were heavy the moment they left his mouth, dropping the weight of the gravity around them like an anvil. An uneasy silence settled in.

"Everyone understands how virtuous Yagi-san is," the detective said with a strained laugh, trying to break the tension. "He was the one who begged Nezu-san to accept Potter-kun as a student here because he didn't want him to turn to the life of a villain, especially not at this age."

The remaining teachers all gave each other glances from across the room at this information.

"I eventually accepted after All Might kept on pestering me!" the principal said, almost cutely due to his form. However, that sheen of seriousness came back almost immediately. "None of this is confirmed, for all we know, we could be reading the situation completely wrong, but as of right now, his circumstances are too strange." He held out his paws. "Does anyone have any objections?"

Voices of disagreement rang throughout the room.

"Principal," Kayama Nemuri, also known as the Eighteen Plus hero, Midnight, raised her hand. The small creature nodded toward her and gave her permission to speak. She lowered her arm without keeping her eyes off the two figures in the front. "How would you like us to treat Potter Harry?"

"Don't antagonize him," the principal immediately ordered. "We still need more solid evidence before we can be sure that he is associated with the late Sirius Black. But even then, any form of suspicion would push him away from us, so we should treat him like any other student."

The brown-haired detective nodded. "He's a very polite kid, and his intentions and personality seem very honest and sincere, but…" The Pros nodded in understanding.

"If there is no solid proof," Kan Sekijiro, or Vlad King, spoke up, "why are we holding this kid here? He must have a home back in England, whether or not he using U.A. or not. What if Potter Harry and Black Sirius is all a coincidence?" The 1-B homeroom teacher said this with hesitation in his voice, even if he did trust the judgement of the principal.

"Hmmm..." the white-furred creature stopped to think. After several seconds he perked up as if a light had gone off in his head. "Call it...an animal's intuition!"

Almost immediately every other teacher sweatdropped at their principal.

"The next meeting will be when Eraserhead, All Might, and Thirteen recovers, until then...everyone is dismissed for today. Thank you for all of your hard work."

* * *

The sun was dipping underneath the city, spilling oranges, reds, and yellows all over the bright sky and streaked bright lights into the clouds that drifted lazily. Harry watched this sight from one of the third-floor windows that was large enough to go from side to side. Beneath him was the U.A. gates and the front courtyard, completely empty except for the two boys he saw earlier, the one with the green hair and the spiky blond hair. He raised a hand, his glasses and green eyes reflecting the warm colors once more before he blinked and turned away.

Hedwig would be waiting for him, his clothes were in tatters, and there was just so much to do now that he was a student here—

"Ah! Young Potter!" a loud, boisterous voice called out to him. Harry turned, catching that large, muscular figure, and that blond, pointing hair walking briskly toward him. "I'm glad that I managed to catch up to you!"

"All Might-sensei," Harry called out, catching the slight bandages wrapped tightly around his form. For a second, Harry swore that he saw a slight pink streak across the man's face. "You should be resting!" Harry insisted, falling to the injuries that peppered the Hero's body.

"All Might- _sensei_ , I like the sound of that!" He put his hands on his hips again and let out a laugh that rumbled his chest. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" He dropped his hands to his sides and turned to Harry with those darkened eyes. "But don't worry about me—I have something important to say to you. It won't take more than a couple of minutes." His eyes dropped down to scan Harry's body, with those blue irises lingering on his thin arms. "How are you feeling? Are you completely healed?" he asked.

"She healed my broken arms, but my hands from my other fight are still healing," Harry said, holding up his hand and exposing his palm before he let them fall back down to his sides. "Recovery Girl is amazing!" he said, voice filled with awe.

"That's good to hear!" All Might stepped closer. "Recovery Girl has been the backbone of this institution for decades, and I'm sure she'd be very happy to hear you say that! Though, Young Potter—I came to talk to you about something." His loud voice dropped, and that deep tone that he spoke with became raspy and low. "Young Potter, I commend you for your bravery and swiftness earlier in U.S.J., but I have to scold you for being so reckless! I briefly saw Aizawa and he said that you ran into the situation without any information at all!"

Harry stood there as the sun dyed the right side of his body with a warm, orange hue, and even from where All Might was standing, he could see that light pass through his green eyes that widened in surprise. At his full height, Potter Harry couldn't even reach the super-powered man's shoulder, but that was expected—in his other form All Might practically towered over _everyone,_ but as he looked at the teenaged boy now, he couldn't help but think that Potter was so small.

"But..." Harry faltered a bit, and All Might thought that he looked like a confused kid that was getting scolded for something that he didn't do. "But I saved...Bakugou," he finished, finally remembering the name of the blond. "He's fine, right? I didn't end up hurting him?" Harry partially wondered if All Might was doing this because he had harmed Bakugou somehow during the scuffle.

"Young Bakugou is in perfect shape thanks to you!" The Pro assured, hands on his hips once more and that beaming smile lighting up the room.

"Then..." Harry's eyebrows knit and he raised a hand to press down on this messy bangs. "I don't get why you had to talk to me...? He's perfectly fine so..."

Now it was All Might's turn to be confused. He didn't understand why Potter wasn't getting the main point—that it was dangerous for a kid like him, especially one that looked so _frail_. One that was obviously malnourished, stated Recovered Girl, a boy that still had the habit of eating little and one that was just barely reaching the average height. He was a _kid,_ All Might thought, and the sunlight could have just swallowed him then and there.

The Pro-Hero took a knee in front of Harry and placed a large hand on his shoulder, and became aware of how pronounced his bones underneath that knitted sweater of his was.

"Young Potter!" They were finally at eye level with each other. "I'm telling you this, because the rest of the staff here at U.A. and I believe that you shouldn't just run into dangerous situations like that again! You could get seriously hurt!"

"You want me to just run away when someone's in danger?" Harry's brows knit even further, almost until they were a V. "I can't do that!" Harry insisted, the Gryffindor blood in his veins running redder. "I can't just abandon someone!" That seemed improbable to Harry, a kid who stopped Quirrel, saved Ginny, and help Sirius escape. If he ran away then, where would he be now? Where would _they_ be now? All Might meant well, but Harry could never take his words to heart.

"That's the spirit of a true hero!" All Might said genuinely. "But there's a difference between saving someone and getting yourself hurt too. You wouldn't be running away!" All Might shook his head energetically, and Harry noted, blankly, that his hair didn't even move an inch. "Not at all! But..." That voice dropped down again, soft and low. "There's nothing wrong with running away. You should realize that there's a difference between running away and losing! You're just a kid, Young Potter, and while your help is valuable, your life is even more so! Even when things seem bleak, you should be able to rely on the adults around you!" He clapped that hand on Harry's shoulder again and stood up to full height. "You have plenty of time to grow up to be a fine Hero, so you shouldn't be so careless!"

 _Oh...so that's the difference between us_... Harry thought.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, a small laugh burst out of his lips and a smile stretched from ear to ear before he knew it.

"You're pretty cool...All Might!" Harry said, grinning widely.

* * *

Classes were cancelled the next day, and Harry spent the entire twenty-four hours locked up in his hotel room as he was repairing his Weasley sweater with a practiced Reparo, getting scolded by Hedwig after she realized that he got hurt again. Then he called Hermione and Ron, but apparently, Hermione was doing some work in the Common Room, so it was only Ron who picked up today. Harry didn't even need Hedwig to give him the nagging nudge to tell his best mate the truth, because with one look Ron already asked, "How did you get injured again?!"

The Boy-Who-Lived shoulders' slumped as he told the Weasley what went wrong from in the U.S.J. facility, and Ron's widened when Harry hesitantly told him that the League of Villains apparently set their sights on him, or rather, his "Quirk."

"I don't know what to say, mate," Ron eventually said, "but only that 'Mione's going to freak when she hears this."

Harry winced and his smile became strained.

"Do you think that you can be the one to tell her what happened?" the wizard asked hopefully.

Ron scoffed. "And have Hermione blow up in my face?" He shook his head and wild, red hair was swept around like fire. "No thanks, I already have Seamus to do that. I'm not as suicidal and crazy as you."

"It's not suicidal!" Harry said weakly.

"I'd say that running into an attack you knew nothing about is absolutely mental," Ron said. "Along with the past five years of our lives, I'm surprised that we're still alive!" Mere seconds later similar smiles broke out on both of their faces. That was a statement Harry couldn't protest against. Green eyes glanced at the clock.

"I have to go," Harry said, already standing up. "I'm sorry I couldn't call yesterday, I slept immediately after I came back, and I start school tomorrow…"

Ron waved him off. "Yeah, no worries, I'll just tell Hermione that you're dealing with that muggle school stuff, so she won't go bonkers trying to subdue you for running into more danger."

A grin stretched from ear to ear. "You're the greatest, Ron!"

"Don't forget it," the redhead said, huffing. He then went on the weekly report of what happened in Hogwarts so far. Quidditch tryouts were going to be soon, and Ron was hoping for the Keeper position. He moved on to talking about the classes that they had so far. Dumbledore still hasn't made a move, and Hermione and Ron were planning on visiting Hagrid soon. Ron's voice and retelling of Hogwarts brought a feeling of nostalgia to Harry's heart, reminding him just how far away he was from his true home. When the lights in Harry's room became dimmer, and Harry's drooping eyes became obvious, the redhead decided that it was enough for the day. With a cheerful wave, Ron said his goodbyes for the day. "Night, mate."

"Night, Ron."

He was out like a light in less than five minutes, already bemoaning his first day of school tomorrow.

* * *

"You're back already, Aizawa-sensei?!"

"He really is a Pro!"

The laggy man ignored the rest of his students' shouts as he slowly wobbled into the classroom. His hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled like always, but this time he was legitimately covered head to toe in bandages so that not even a sliver of skin would be seen. His left arm was in a sling and he shook with every movement. His desk from the middle of the room and the door wasn't even more than three meters away, yet the Pro-Hero looked as if he had just ran a marathon with Present Mic on his back.

"Glad to see you doing well, Sensei!" the students continued to shout anyway.

"If you can call that doing well…" Uraraka Ochako whispered, watching the way as the Pro trembled as he made his trek.

"My welfare isn't important," the man dismissed in that same drawl that he always talked in, silencing the room, perched behind the podium. "Because I have two important announcements to make."

"Huh?"

"Don't tell me…!" Midoriya Izuku gasped.

"More villains?!" Mineta Minoru's voice shook with fear.

"Class 1-A is getting a new transfer student!" Aizawa's droopy eyes opened from beneath the thick swathe of bandages around his head. He turned to the door. "You can come in now!"

Everyone's head snapped toward the entrance in wait. The large door finally creaked open and it revealed a pale teen with black hair and startling green eyes.

"Hello…" he said, "my name is Potter Harry. It's nice to meet you all!"

* * *

 ** _A/N_** :

For my description of Aizawa I first made Harry compare him with Snape, and for this chapter Harry (unconsciously) mistakes Aizawa for Sirius, and I have several reasons for that.

The main reason is that Aizawa kind of likes to hide, so when Harry _really_ saw him for the first time in the nurse's room when he was awake, he didn't see him very well, so he just compared him to the next long, dark-haired person he knew, which would be Snape, since Harry knew him longer. It would also be easier for Harry to associate Aizawa with someone that he had negative feelings for, rather than a godfather that he just lost.

Thanks for reading!

 _ **Update**_ :

In Chapter 4, I added a small part where I noted that Sirius was innocent and that this information would be made free to the public. However, to make the story flow better, I decided to take that part out to keep the suspicion on Harry (also due to a commenter reminding me that I wrote that in the first place). I'm sorry for any possible confusion.


	9. Chapter Eight

"Say something about yourself," the teacher said with a low and sleepy drawl that sounded like he'd rather roll around in bed than be here. Harry glanced over at him and looked into tired eyes hidden behind the slits between bandages and quickly averted his gaze right after.

"Um…" the Boy-Who-Lived said, his hand gripped the strap of his school bag so hard that his knuckles turned white and his nails pierced the palm of his skin with cresents. An awkward silence settled in after Harry had his first introduction, and eyes burned onto his skin from all of their wide stares. They definitely recognized him as the idiot who ran into the U.S.J. facility like a madman. The weight of the stares from the spiky, redheaded kid, the ashy blond, the shy one with freckles, and the duel-haired boy were especially heavy.

"I'm from England," the boy-wizard admitted awkwardly, his Japanese wavering, "and I'm here temporarily. Please take care of me." With lagging movements, he slowly bowed to the class and someone from the corner politely clapped hurriedly.

"Just sit wherever you want," Aizawa-said, waving his unbroken arm at the classroom, gesturing to the four unoccupied seats that were scattered around the room. "I can't be bothered with seating charts right now." Carefully, Harry made his way to an empty seat near the back beside a girl with a large round eyes, and a pulled smile like a frog's.

As the teacher took his place back in front of the podium, Harry unloaded his bag and his pencils, trying to calm his breathing.

Boy-Who-Lived, Youngest Seeker in a Century, the Chosen One, Triwizard Tournament Champion, he was still unable to shake off the nerves of speaking in front of a crowd, never mind the fact that he's never spoken Japanese to that many people before. He didn't know why, but he wanted to break out in sweat in front of his new classmates.

Would they like him here?

He wasn't begging for some new best friends, but it would be nice if he didn't have to suffer through bullying or have his classmates gang up on him. He'd prefer to go through U.A. as smoothly as possible, thank you.

They didn't know who he was, and he certainly didn't have Dudley shadowing him like the plague like in primary school, so he really did have a clean slate.

 _I'm completely normal here_ , Harry thought, straightening out his new school uniform. As normal as the number one school for Quirk users could be anyway. A tentative smile almost reached his cheeks anyway, and petals of laughter almost bloomed inside of his chest at the thought. He was almost free here.

"Your fight is far from over," Eraserhead stated, and an air of anticipation dropped over the room. "U.A.'s sports festival is fast approaching!"

"That's totally ordinary!" some students cried not even a moment after, in disbelief that a school like U.A. would still dwindle on normal school events.

He tilted his head. Sports festival?

"A sports festival!" another cheered, almost as if Merlin above was confirming his questions.

"Come on! We just had a villain attack," one whined. "You sure about this?!"

"It's necessary," Eraserhead cut off the comments. "To demonstrate that U.A.'s crisis management protocols are sound…" The man gave a small shrug. "That's the thinking apparently. Compared to the last years, there will be five times the police presence. Anyhow...our sports festival... _is the greatest opportunity you'll get._ It's not something that can be cancelled over a couple villains."

Harry leaned in closer in his seat, the blood in his veins pulsing as the news of this event pulled everyone in like a magnet.

"Are you sure about that…?" the kid with grapes on his head asked, practically quaking in his shoes. "It's just a dumb sports festival…"

The student with the wild green hair whipped his head around immediately. "Mineta...don't tell me you've never seen U.A.'s sports festival!" The boy shook almost like he was just told that someone didn't know what grass or air was, and the whites of his eyes grew larger.

"Of course I have!" the smaller student replied. "That's not what I mean…!"

"Our sports festival is one of Japan's biggest events!" Eraserhead stated, some life finally filling his voice. "The Olympics were once the world's sports festival. The whole country would be whipped into a frenzy over them. But as you know, that tradition has shrunk to a shell of its former self…"

The entire class seemed to wait with a bated breath.

"As far as Japan's concerned, what's taken place of the Olympics is...the U.A. Sports Festival!" Aizawa knowingly stated.

"The nation's top heroes will be watching!" a girl with a high ponytail said. "They'll be there as scouts!"

"Naturally, you'll gain experience and popularity if you're picked up by a big-name hero," the shaggy-haired teacher said. "But your time is limited. Show the Pros what you're made of here, and you'll make a future for yourself. If you're hoping to become a hero, this is an event you can't miss! If you understand this, don't slack off on your preparations!"

With those last words still ringing in the air, he dismissed the class for some free time as he had done his job for this homeroom period. Harry saw the injured man pull out a large yellow sleeping bag seemingly out of nowhere and slumped over in the corner of the room for a nap like an overgrown caterpillar.

But the effects of his speech still lingered around the room as everyone was pumped with fighting spirit for this upcoming event. They talked around the room about sidekicks, Pros, and internships, but Harry couldn't bring himself to be bothered with it.

 _If it's anything like the Triwizard Tournament..._ Harry inwardly grimaced. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted to his forearm, hidden by the grey sleeve of his blazer, but he knew of the jagged scar that still lay underneath.

Harry had to make some preparations though. He'd have to go to the library to look the sports festival up, since he had never heard of it before. Even though Harry could do without the entire thing, he told himself that there would be no way around it, so he had to just accept this school festival that was suddenly thrown at him. He was here to get stronger, and to do that he would have to get experience underneath a hero. Harry couldn't waste his time here.

"—you think?" a voice spoke up.

Harry blinked and lifted his propped cheek off the palm of his hand.

"Excuse me?" He blinked. He realized that three of the guys several rows in front of him had turned their rolling chairs around and were talking to him.

"We asked what you thought about the sports festival!" the one with flat, black hair and strange inserts in his elbows asked.

"Oh," Harry said. "Sorry, I don't know much about it," he admitted honestly.

"Really!" the blond one with a streak of black across his hair asked. "Is it not popular back in England then?"

"Uh…" Harry turned from one student to the other, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He couldn't even give him an honest answer if he wanted to, Harry never bothered himself with Quirk events as a child.

"Oh!" the taller one said, scoffing to himself. "I forgot to give you my name! I'm Sero Hanta!"

"I'm Potter Harry," he said with an incline of his head as he shook the taller male's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too!"

"I'm Kaminari Denki!" the blond one jumped in and Harry let out a small, "Oh," before repeating himself and shaking his hand too. "Man! I didn't think that we were going to have a transfer student! Are you from London?" he immediately asked.

"No, I'm from Surrey, but that's near London," Harry politely replied, checking his pronunciation after every word.

"That's cool too! Just like your scar!" Kaminari smiled brightly and pointed to the spot on his own forehead. At the mention of his cursed scar, the blood in Harry's body went cold, and if his hand went slack in Denki's hand, the boy didn't mention it. Before Harry could think of it any more, the other male continued. "It's lightning shaped! Just like the pattern in my hair!" He turned his head and pointed to the lightning bolt-shaped streaks across yellow locks. "Is your Quirk lightning related too?"

"No." Harry shook his head immediately, and he cursed himself for letting his tone come out breathlessly. He had to force himself to relax, reminding himself that he knew nothing about his scar like the Wizarding World did. "I got this scar from an...accident when I was a little kid."

It certainly was an accident.

"Same!" another voice suddenly jumped in, and Harry turned his head again and he looked up to see the redhead from the facility leaning over his desk. The redhead grinned from ear to ear the moment Harry's eyes landed on him and pointed to his right eye. A thin, pale scar ran across the eyelid, but it was tiny enough to be completely unnoticeable at a distance, and even be mistaken as an eyelash up close. "I got this when I was three years old. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and when I raised my hand to rub my eye I accidentally activated my Quirk for the first time!" Before Harry could finish gaping and process the story, the boisterous student continued.

"Do you remember me?" he finally asked, "I was the one of the guys that was with you at U.S.J.. What you did back there was so manly!"

"I do!" Harry said, eyes widening in familiarity. A flash of red rushed through his memories. "Thank you for saving me earlier!" Harry reached out his hand to shake and the boy took it happily in a tight grip.

"No problem, I only picked you up from your spot! That's the least a man should do! And you saved Bakugou!" the redhead grinned as a muffled shout shot off from the back of the room. "I'm Kirishima Eijiro!" he finally introduced.

"Potter Harry," Harry said once more, dropping his hand. He leaned back slightly in his seat and took in the sight of the three boys. They were just like the ones back in the Gryffindor dorms, he thought with a small smile. Excitable like them, definitely.

"What's your Quirk, Potter-kun?" Sero asked, eyes light with eagerness.

"Yeah, what is it? It's totally flashy and strong!" Eijiro added.

Harry's green eyes widened, and from habit the words, "I'm Quirkless," almost slipped past his lips after years of repetition. It was only due to his memories of the Wizarding World catching up with him that he caught himself just seconds before the blunder and slowly swallowed.

"I can shoot um—" _magic,_ "—energy from my hands," he said. He inwardly grimaced and Harry almost kicked himself because he sounded like he didn't believe it himself, but the boys around him awed and _oo_ ed anyway. A nervous drop of sweat dripped down his temple and the words across the back of his left hand seemed to burn.

"Woah! That's awesome! What does it do?" Sero asked, leaning over the desk in awe.

"It stuns when it hits people and animals, and it can explode things if it's inanimate objects. I can also use it to block or shield if I use it a certain way..." He spoke carefully, running his mouth using the textbook explanation of _Stupefy, Protego_ and _Expulso_ that Harry had relied on ever since he'd stepped foot in this crazy adventure.

"Awesome!" Kaminari commented. "And you fought with Kirishima during U.S.J.! You must be crazy strong!"

Harry shook his head and tried to deny that right away. His cheeks were tinted with a light pink from the modesty.

"My name is Asui Tsuyu, but you can call me 'Tsu,'" the girl beside Harry spoke up and cut into their conversation suddenly, "and I say whatever comes to mind." She spun around in her seat completely and laid those large eyes of hers on his form. "Potter-chan," she addressed, making the boy in question perk up in response, "your Quirk must not be good for long time use, and you must tire out easily."

Harry's eyes widened in reply. He didn't think about that. She was right, if his Quirk really did use his "energy" like he said it did, his ability would run on his energy and stamina like an emptying hourglass. And from what little he did know about Quirks, they always had a limit to them.

Like how Dudley couldn't hold his Quirk on for longer than five hours. One of his muggle classmates from primary school always complained about how using his Quirk for long periods of time gave him a headache and a nosebleed.

"You're right," he started off slowly to test the words in his mouth, "but I have a lot of stamina too…" Harry added that last part in almost like an afterthought, because magic only had limits that the caster chose. Harry realized that he needed an excuse for his abundance of energy.

"Tsu," Kirishima said kindly, "Potter didn't use a lot of his Quirk during the fight with the villains anyway."

"I see," the frog-like girl replied, holding up a long finger to her lips.

"Say, Potter-kun," Harry looked back at the lightning-user. "You gotta tell us how you got into U.A.! I'd love to transfer sometime too, but um…" Kaminari stopped and looked sheepish. "I'm not the best with grades…"

"Yeah!" Sero and Kirishima added, lighting up at the prospect that their friend just bought and jumping on the idea.

"Going to train to be a hero in another country just sounds so manly!"

"Think about all the cool things you'd get to do in Europe!" Sero continued, and with his loud voice, it seemed like that was the one that captured the attention of the entire class.

"Erm—I didn't really do anything special," Harry finally answered, putting a hand to the back of his neck in nervousness as he felt the eyes of everyone on him. In all honesty, the only credit that he should be getting is the fact that he tried his best to survive. Everything after that was just Nezu and the rest of the teachers jumping the question on him and guilting him into joining U.A.

"C'mon! There had to be something!" Kaminari urged. "Did you have to send in a video of you fighting or something?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" Mineta rhetorically asked, leaning into the conversation with slight eagerness and smugness. "U.A. chose the transfer student by rank of strength!"

"I-Impossible!" another male jumped in on their conversation, and it was the bespeckled student that Harry had bumped into days ago. "U.A. is known for their prestige in all subjects, I find it very difficult to believe that a simple physical test! Potter-san's Japanese is almost impeccable! He must've taken a language exam to get a chance to study at U.A.!" He spoke with a ferocity and passion in his voice, waving his arms around wildly to get his point through.

"Ahh!" Kaminari cursed, pulling his hair. "Damn it! My English sucks!"

Soon after, everyone started to talk above one another to try and get their two cents in about the transfer program that didn't even exist. Multiple introductions were thrown his way too, such as an excited girl with bright pink hair like a pygmy puff, and pink skin to match. An energetic invisible girl that almost made Harry wipe his glasses at the sight of a floating uniform came over from her corner of the room to happily introduce herself and shake his hand.

Eventually the wave of chatter got too much for Harry and he decided to speak up.

"Actually…" he started out, and with his voice, everyone ceased talking almost immediately. "I didn't do anything," he admitted. "The principal asked me if I wanted to go to U.A. for a short turn, and I said yes."

But Harry, oblivious as he was about the true weight of U.A. on all of Japan didn't understand the value of the heavy silence that fell through the room. While the wizard sat there wondering if it was something that he said, the same thought dropped through every student's mind.

 _How did a seemingly average teenager get into U.A. so easily?_

They all gaped and stared in different levels of shock, but the thought was the same. Exactly what did he have to do, or what did he have to _be_ , in order to just easily slip by the three percent chance of entering this school? A foreigner no less, one that hailed from a country thousands of kilometers away.

Just who was this Potter Harry sitting in front of them?

But no matter what theory or idea that ran through the students' heads, they all fell under the same conclusion:

If he was strong enough to get into U.A. with special circumstances, then he was strong enough to be an obstacle to them at the sports festival.

And to become the number one hero that they so desired to be, that meant that they had to defeat him first.

Before anyone else had a chance to get another questioning glance at the nervous boy sitting in the middle of the classroom, a loud slam slapped them out of their thinking.

A scuffed, black loafer was suddenly on the corner of Harry's desk, shaking the wood and digging the edge against his rib.

His green eyes widened and trailed up, staring from the saggy green uniform trousers, then to the unkept blazer and wrinkled button-up, and finally to the scowling face of the blond boy he had jumped in front of earlier.

"All this shitty talk about transfer students and foreigners…" The boy dug his shoe further into the desk. "Are you all trying to piss me off?! _Who gives a damn?!_ "

With that final explosive statement, he kicked Harry's desk to the side and stomped forward until he was right in Harry's face. Several shouts raised in shock from the crash-landing desk that soared over to the other side of the desk. Multiple students started to talk at once again, but that was all background noise as Harry and the kid with the ashy blond hair stared down at each other.

"A-Ah! Kacchan, you shouldn't antagonize the new student!" a feeble voice cried from the back, among all the other sounds.

"Bakugou-san, your behavior is inexcusable!" the boy with the dark blue parted hair said. "Apologize to Potter-san—!"

"Shut the fuck up, Deku, Side Character!" the "Kacchan" turned around and snapped back, making the green-haired boy falte and the bespeckled boy gasp in reply. Right after though, he turned right back and continued to bore those red eyes into Harry's green.

Harry's expression was nothing but a schooled irritation. While this student spat in his face and got into his personal space out of nowhere, Harry felt his own temper rising in response. Everyone else had been pleasant so far, but the arrival of this primary school bully instantly made Harry's mood sour.

Harry's temper hadn't been this horrible in _months_. He knew that he was difficult to be with during his fifth year, and looking back on it now, he didn't know why Hermione or Ron walked out on him more. He certainly would have, if he was in their place.

But with the lack of Voldemort's presence in his mind, two deaths, and image of Umbridge and the centaurs still fresh in his mind, Harry didn't have a reason to be angry in a while. Nevermind the fact that he was away from it all, and spent most of his days lazing around with Hedwig. Yet this blond kid in front of him grated on his nerves like nails upon a chalkboard.

"This entire time you've been looking down on me, huh?!" the blond barked until Harry's eardrums pulsed from the volume. "Especially that fucking stunt you did earlier! I don't need fucking saving, got that?!"

A Slytherin to the core, a bad mix of Malfoy and the goons that he stomped around with.

"I don't give a damn about you or whatever shitty elite school that you went to, but get in my way again and I'll fucking crush you—" He grabbed Harry's shirt collar and tie with one hand and threatenly sent sparks shooting out his other hand. " _GOT IT?!_ "

Harry was up out of his seat so fast that his own chair was knocked back in a loud crash once it hit the floor. His own hand immediately wrapped around Bakugou's wrist and he tightened his hold.

"Let go of me now," Harry said in a controlled tone, his own spitfire about to show.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kirishima tried to get in between them and waved his hands in a cooling manner like he was trying to tame the fire that ignited under Bakugou. "Let's all calm down!"

"What—!" the girl with the high ponytail cried out. "Aizawa-sensei, wake up!"

"You two must calm down this instance!" a voice from Harry's left demanded.

"Do you want to me to kill you or something, foreigner boy?!" Bakugou spat out instead, but had forcefully dropped his hand after Kirishima wedged the two apart.

"You two can fight all you want at the sports festival!" the redhead quickly said before Harry had a chance to snap back his own threat. "You know, with actual guidelines and not trying to...murder...each other…!" The spiky-haired boy grimaced when he realized that he fell short with his statement.

Bakugou shook Kirishima's hand off of him and took a quick sweep around the room. Everyone had abandoned their desks and circled around them in various states of preparation. Behind him, Sato, Shoji and even Deku made a small half-circle around him, ready to jump in and hold him back at any second in case Bakugou wanted to throw himself at Harry like an enraged bull. Ojiro and Iida stood behind Harry, either to hold him back too, or to jump in for his rescue. Todoroki and Tokoyami stood several meters back, no doubt at the ready as well.

This was too much trouble, even for him. He was hot-headed, yes, but he was smart too. To get everyone in 1-A involved wouldn't end well, even for him.

Bakugou forcefully scoffed and relaxed his arms. "You're damn lucky," he spat. "I'll put you in your damned place at the sports festival!"

He spun around on his heel, prepared to drop this entire thing for now and sulk in silence. Collective sighs fell out of Kirishima and Kaminari's lips and their shoulders almost sank from a issue well-evaded until—

"I'm surprised that you'll give me first place that easily then," Harry snapped.

The world was silent for one whole second.

" _RAHHH_!" Bakugou screamed. He turned around fast enough to give him whiplash and leapt into the air with his hands sparking up like a starting fire. Everyone around them tensed their muscles up and pushed their reflexes to push them in between the two.

However, through Harry's eyes, everything was slowed down. The students around him moved like slugs, and Bakugou's was as easily to follow as a paper plane. As the blond soared midair in an arch, Harry was fast enough to raise his hand and plant a spell that was right on the tip of his tongue.

His hand was inches away from slamming into Katsuki's chest, fingertips just a brush apart.

"Die!"

" _Stu—!_ "

"Don't fight in the classroom!"

White bandages suddenly wrapped themselves around Bakugou's arms and torso and pulled him forward like a fish on a reel. Harry didn't have the time to react. He remained frozen, wide-eyed and shocked, in his pose even as Bakugou crash landed in a couple desks just a meter away from Harry's side.

The Gryffindor turned his creaky neck toward the irate teacher, up and out of his sleeping bag with bloodshot eyes, raised hair from an invisible breeze, and bandages floating around him. Aizawa narrowed his eyes and scowled, speaking with irritation grinding in every syllable in his tone.

"And don't make me use my Quirk!" The man blinked and Bakugou was up again. "I have dry eye, goddamnit! And I'm just recovering!" Looking closer, Harry could see red veins run like lace throughout the man's eye underneath his bandages.

"What the hell was that for, Aizawa-sensei?!" Bakugou demanded, strong on his feet as if he didn't just face plant into a row of hardwood.

"Are you two asking for detention?!" the shaggy-haired man snapped back instead. "Bakugou, stop with this childish attitude! Potter, don't provoke him further! If either of you do this again, you're going to scrub every toilet in this building!"

Every student was stunned to silence.

"Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes..." Harry eventually said, a whisper under his breath. He turned his eyes down to his soles.

"Tch, whatever!"

* * *

As soon as the lunch bell rang to let every student out of their classrooms, Harry was one of the first people out the door. His phone was in his hand the moment he cleared the classroom and he curiously checked for the single notification that rang.

" _Potter-san,_ " the text said once Harry opened the messaging app, " _your hero costume has been completed and delivered from the company. At any time that is appropriate, you may pick it up as soon as you wish._ "

The number above was an unknown one, but Harry didn't have a doubt in his mind that this was from anyone but the support branch. He turned off his phone and dropped it in his pocket and gave himself a small shrug. Not like he had anything else to do during the lunch period other than eat, so he might as well be on his way now.

Right after he managed to get one foot in front of the other, a voice behind him spoke up.

"U-Um!" the person said meekly. "I-I'm sorry about Kacchan and what he did earlier…! He's always like that...b-but he's not a bad person at heart…!" Harry turned around and saw the short, freckled boy again, the one with rounded eyes and dark green hair that was nearly black. He remembered him as the one that jumped in to save All Might right before the rest of the Pros came in. Harry turned the rest of his body and looked down at the boy.

"Er," Harry started out, awkwardly, "it's alright, I guess, but I don't know why you're apologizing for him…" The wizard titled his head in confusion. The two stopped on the side of the hallway beside the classroom, and students filtered around them.

"O-Oh!" The shorter boy straightened up. "W-We're childhood friends, and I dunno…" The boy paused to put a hand on the back of his neck. "I guess I feel kind of obligated to say that...since you're new and all." He seemed considerate and sincere enough.

"Oh," the wizard said. The boy in front of him was shy, but the Bakugou was the exact opposite, and from what it looked like the blond wasn't very nice to him either. Harry wondered if there really was a dynamic like this in the world. "Thanks then. I remember you from U.S.J.. You're um…" He thought back to every memory he had of the green-haired boy, but could barely scrape the surface. "Deku?" Harry said in a questioning tone, remembering that that was what the blond kid had called him.

"T-That's just a nickname that Kacchan calls me…" Deku sheepishly said. "My name is—"

"Move out of my damned way, Deku!"

The two snapped their heads toward the ajar door and Bakugou clambered out again, infamous scowl on his face. Right behind him was the blond boy with the black streak and the redhead. Thankfully for the two, Bakugou took one look at the two and huffed irritably before walking away with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Potter!" Kirishima called out, grinning happily. "We were just about to go to the cafeteria! Do you want to come and sit with us?" he invited.

Harry gave him a weak, half-hearted smile in return. "I actually have to go get my hero costume from the Development Studio, so I'm not eating lunch today. Maybe tomorrow?" he asked. Thankfully, the redhead nodded happily.

"Yeah, totally! C'mon, Kaminari!" He turned his head from the electric blond back to Harry. "See you back in class!" he called out as he started to walk away with a wave. Harry limply raised a hand to wave back.

"Er." He looked back at Deku again. "I guess I'll see you around then?"

Deku opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then closed it again and shook his head. Two pairs of green eyes met and Deku nodded soundlessly.

* * *

"Here you go," Power Loader said as he heaved a silver briefcase up on one of the empty work tables. "You only asked for a durable costume and nothing fancy, so they finished this up earlier than expected. If you have some additional requests later on, or if your costume gets torn, feel free to send it over to the Development Studio."

"Thank you!" Harry said, gently taking the large briefcase in both hands. The metal around it was heavy and smooth, and they had painted his name and class on the front.

 _It's not dragonhide, but I hope it holds up as well_ , he thought.

"Power Loader-sensei! Here's the petition list!" a student called out from behind the Pro, holding out a sheet of paper. The teacher turned around and took the paper from the student's hands and quickly scanned the list.

"Is this everyone?" he asked the class.

"Yes, sensei!" rang the students.

Even though it was lunchtime, the Development Studio was still full of students sitting at their tables and working on their projects. The constant sound of tinkering and light chatter filled the room like an unorganized orchestra.

"Petition?" Harry asked, almost to himself. From the way the Hero perked up, Harry realized that Power Loader overheard him and asked anyway. "What's that for?"

"Some students in the Support Course don't have Quirks that would help them in a physical aspect, unlike students from the Hero Course," Power Loader explained. "So to give every student an equal chance, they can petition to bring outside equipment that they think might help them during the sports festival. The students sign their name on the list and the other students that signed will 'petition' for them."

"Outside equipment?" Harry muttered. He looked up at the Pro. "Um, is it only for the Support classes? Can someone from the Hero Course petition too?"

Power Loader looked at him with an expression Harry couldn't explain, especially not underneath that mask. "Yes, a student from the Hero Course can petition as well, but they would need an accepted reason," he eventually said.

"Er," Harry said, confirming the older mans suspicions that he was asking for himself, "I get tired quickly if I use my Quirk too often." Harry faltered and flattened his bangs nervously. "Is that...Is that an acceptable reason?"

The Pro-Hero paused for a while before nodding and bending down to scratch Harry's name down at the bottom of the list.

"What is the object that you will be bringing with you?"

"Fireworks," Harry instantly blurted out, instantly thinking of the box of Explosive Enterprises that the twins gave him.

The Gryffindor didn't see it, but Power Loader's eyebrow raised far above his forehead.

"Fireworks?" the teacher asked incredulously. "What are you going to do with that? Potter-san, I hope that they aren't going to be used for what I think they are—"

"They're not anything dangerous!" Harry immediately said, holding up both hands. "They're, um—the Support Course back at my old school—" ( _Sorry, Fred and George_ , he thought with a mental grimace.) "—made them mostly for distraction, and they don't hurt much. Only a small sting if they actually hit someone."

"Alright…" Power Loader eventually said, but his tone stayed hesitant. One large, gloved hand raised to scratch his head.

"Is there a limit to how many items you can bring?" Harry asked next, eager to move the subject along.

"No there isn't, but you're in the Hero Course, so I'd have to check."

"Then I'd like to bring a medical kit with me," Harry said next. _Like that bruise cream that the twins gave me. Along with my Firebolt, wand, and maybe a potion or two...but he can't know that._

Power Loader nodded, seemingly accepting the medical kit as something normal.

"Will that be all?"

The wizard nodded. "Yes."

* * *

"A sports festival?" Hermione asked from beyond the mirror, just as confused as Harry was.

He was back in his hotel room, laying flat on his stomach as Hedwig happily munched on bird treats on the bedside table. He was a bit exhausted after his first day at school, but other than the skirmish that happened during his homeroom period, the rest of the day went by smoothly. It was past dinnertime and Harry decided to give his best friends a call, but Hermione was the only one in the mirror.

"Yeah," he said. "Have you heard of it?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, "I grew up thinking that I was Quirkless, and my parents thought that it would upset me if I watched all those Quirk events so I've only ever read on about Quirks…"

Harry sighed. "Right. Don't you suppose that Dean knows?" he suggested. "From what I remember he was the most knowledgeable about them in our class…" Ron would've called Dean a 'nut about them,' but Dean Thomas was always a bit excitable about Quirks, and the only time Dean was able to talk over Hermione during class was whenever they discussed Quirks.

Hermione nodded. "He probably does. It would be good to give him a quick ask, but try to do it as subtly as possible…" she muttered to herself.

Just when Hermione said that, Harry's eyes widened as a major realization hit him.

"Hermione!" Harry cried, making the bright witch look at him. "The sports festival is going to be televised!" The witch gasped and widened her eyes at him. He knit his eyebrows together. "What am I going to do? Should I just quit the whole thing now?" Meaning that anyone who wanted to find him would be able to find exactly where he was.

"Not yet!" she said. "Quitting right now is too risky of an idea!"

"But my name is going to be out there!" Harry gaped. "My face is going to be out there! If any muggleborn catches my name...and tells the Ministry…!" They would forcefully drag him back to England before he could even finish his mission of finding Midoriya's family, or worse, snap his wand for using magic for the short period he was here.

He wanted to voice more concerns, but Hermione was already doing what she did best.

His best friend looked just as conflicted as he felt, but even from beyond the mirror he was able to see the gears in her mind turning as she turned over every option that Harry was going to take and their possible outcomes.

"We don't know if the sports festival is heavily covered over in this country, so there's the hope that the other countries ministries are going to leave you alone, and the whole situation can be easily evaded," Hermione said, laying down the first possibility. "There's also the chance that there will be so many students competing at once, your image and your name would be swept aside by the media...But until we know all of our options…" Hermione pressed her lips together.

"Should I...purposely throw the event then?" Harry suggested. Hermione shook her head so hard that her curls bounced.

"You wanted to get stronger, didn't you? You'd be wasting your time there if you couldn't get, what was it...internships?" she asked. Harry nodded. "So you absolutely just can't quit or throw the event. The only advice that I could give you for right now until we get more information is...use as little obvious magic as possible," Hermione's voice was clear and straight-laced. "Have you been reading up on those soundless, wandless charms?"

Harry nodded again. "But I haven't got the time to actually use them…"

"And you should try your best," the witch finally stated, "but don't draw too much attention to yourself. You have to get that middle ground, Harry!"

"But what about the Ministry?"

"That's what we're trying to avoid…" Hermione huffed, "but if anything happens that's out of your control...We'll deal with it, Harry." Hermione's eyes looked off to the side. "I hate to admit it, but this is all I have right now. Until Dean or any other muggleborn can give me the information...Well, Ronald's always been better at strategizing, even though I'd hate to admit it."

"Wait a minute, Ronald?" Harry repeated, he knit his brows together. She only ever called him that whenever they were arguing, and Harry thought that it was strange that it was only her that picked up. "Are you two fighting?"

Hermione immediately snorted quite unladylike, and pulled a face.

"He's been insufferable recently! Him and Ginny…!" she ranted before turning back to the mirror to look Harry right in the eye. "You know how he's Keeper now, right?"

Harry nodded dumbly, unsure how to tread this conversation with Hermione without making her angry at him as well, or how to make Ron think of him badly if he simply agreed with everything Hermione said.

In their past conversations together, Ron talked animatedly about the Quidditch tryouts for the Gryffindor team. With the absence of Harry, Fred, George, and Oliver Wood, many new members were needed to be taken in and Ron spoke eagerly about the Keeper position. Harry felt a weight in his stomach at the thought of missing Quidditch, at the thought is missing _flying_ , but it was something that he just couldn't help. From what he heard, Katie Bell took up the position as Quidditch captain, Ron made the team, Ginny replaced him, Dean Thomas and an underclassman girl named Demelza made the team as Chasers, and the empty Beater positions went to two boys named Jimmy and Richie.

It was barely the first semester, yet he was already missing so much, Harry thought.

Ginny was getting more involved with boys, and so her and Ron got into a fight and were currently treating each other coldly.

"They've been at each other's tails recently, and—!" Hermione exhaled out of her nose. "Harry, if I tell you this, can you promise not to tell Ron?"

"Erm…"

"I confunded Cormac McLaggen," Hermione quickly admitted, with a face like she ate a lemon, "during the Quidditch tryouts."

"Cormac McLaggen?" Harry asked, unfamiliar with the name. Then he asked, "Wait, you manipulated the tryout's results?"

Hermione at least had the decency looked ashamed.

" _Ooh_! You should see him, Harry!" Hermione grit her teeth and her face colored. "McLaggen flaunts his family as if he was responsible for their success in the Ministry, and his personality's as great as a Blast-Ended Skrewt's!" The Boy-Who-Lived could only listen with a stunned silence as Hermione went on this long tangent. "I-I felt like he didn't deserve the Keeper position, you know?" She nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "He was insulting Ginny and Ron, and Ron would never admit to you, but he was shaking like a leaf during the tryouts. Ron wasn't all there...so I gave him a little help," she admitted. The witch then wheeled in on Harry again. "And manipulation is a strong word, Harry!"

"Hermione," Harry groaned, lifting up his glasses to pinch his temple. "You shouldn't have done that! What's Ron going to think? Actually, what's Ron going to do during his first game?"

"Ronald is going to do just fine!" Hermione said in a forcefully haughty tone. "And he's not going to say anything, because you aren't going to tell him, _right_? And don't try to make me feel guilty, Mr. Potter!" She blinked multiple times as if to clear dust away. "I-I already feel guilty."

Harry sighed. If Oliver Wood was still around, he'd probably pass away from shock. "Alright, Hermione…"

Hermione exhaled right after he did. "I'll tell Ron about the sports festival and I'll pass the mirror to him eventually. I'll send over some books too, but until then, you should read up on what Fred and George gave you and practice some spells…"

Hermione continued to chatter on about the spells he might need to practice and what he should bring with him for the sports festival. Eventually, the witch excused herself because her lunch period ended, and she needed to get to classes.

Harry said his goodbyes and lied on his back in bed. Not long after, he rolled over and nodded off in sleep.

* * *

"Eraserhead!"

The teacher's room had a small, heated futon that they had for those long days of both fighting crime and watching over reckless teenagers. Lately, it was mostly used by Yagi Toshinori during his breaks after he had run out of time, but as of right now it was currently occupied by Aizawa Shota.

Earlier, he bandaged man had scooted his way over to the electric blanket and threw it over his sleeping bag. In no time at all, he had fallen asleep like an large cat in the afternoon, but at the sound of the principal calling out to him, the Pro-Hero cracked one eye open.

"Yes, Principal?" the dark-haired man asked, rolling over in the futon with the covers still pulled up to his chin.

"I'm just asking around about our new transfer student," the white-furred creature said, tail slowly flicking behind him. Slowly, Aizawa raised out of the covers and sat up. Sitting, he was on the same eye level as Nezu standing.

"What did the others say?" the man asked in a low voice. Eraserhead's eyes lifted and fell at a languid pace underneath the bandages.

"Well behaved and polite, just like what Tsukauchi-san said," the principal cheerily replied. "He gets along well with the others too. All Might wanted to ask more about him from the Midoriya that he had taken under his wing, but he thought that it would be too suspicious."

"Hmm…" the Pro said in reply. He kept his expression schooled and calm. "Bakugou started a fight with him."

The other teachers in the background didn't say anything, but the two could tell that they were listening in.

"Bakugou? Bakugou Katsuki?" Nezu asked.

"You let the fight happen in your classroom, Eraserhead?!" the loud voice of Present Mic broke in and they looked over at the excitable blond.

"I stopped them before they did any damage," the bandaged man said, light irritation lacing his voice. "I wanted to see how far Potter was willing to take it. I don't want the classroom in shambles."

"What did Potter do?" Nezu asked, holding a paw up to his snout.

"Bakugou came up to him first and provoked him. Potter actually has a temper of his own and fired back." He shrugged. "He wasn't as temperamental as Katsuki, but he didn't seem to have any problem with using his Quirk on the other student."

"It's nothing that would give us any hints about his possible connection with Black, but at least we get to know more about his character," Nezu said, mulling over it with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Hopefully, by the time the sports festival comes around, some of our questions will be answered."


	10. Chapter Nine

It really was a strange time for Harry to transfer in.

Due to the sports festival taking the threshold of everyone's mind, everyone's classes were shifted around for the event. The ordinary classes, such as Maths, English, Science, and History, were done in small periods in the beginning of the day, while the afternoon classes that consisted of hero studies were lengthened into large blocks so the students would have a chance to prepare for the upcoming festival. Of course, with everyone out training and prepping for the event, Harry was held inside the classroom for remedial classes.

The end of the term was still a far cry away, but the teachers needed him to catch up as soon as possible for the exams. Harry spent the block period on subjects that they knew he knew absolutely nothing about. Subjects like Traditional Japanese and Japanese History were just on the tip of the iceberg, while the rest of the period was spent reading up on some Japanese literature that would help him catch up with the rest of his classmates during class. He also had the chance to ask any of the teachers that were at hand to explain some particularly difficult characters that he couldn't read, or for assistance with his writing.

He didn't really mind this set up. The wizard was used to being holed in inside all day, and this wasn't any different, (but he _did_ fall asleep while reading a passage on the early history of Japan. At least it wasn't as bad as the International Warlock Convention of 1289). He wasn't particularly eager to jump into hero studies either, so it felt like it eased him into life at U.A. in a way. While everyone was out talking about training, All Might-sensei, or how they were going to prepare, Harry just pushed hero studies back further and further. It was right in his face, but it still felt like a dream to him, putting the reality of this glorified hero school on a low flame.

The study period was done in the library, but he wasn't completely alone either. He was taking the crash courses with the only other two foreigners in his grade.

Pony Tsunotori was a shy American girl from Class 1-B that had a flat face, large eyes, and pony-like features. She had just started learning Japanese, so whenever she spoke she did so quietly and nervously, but she had taken a liking to Harry and always chatted with him endlessly, glad to speak English with another person. She eagerly asked Harry questions about the Japanese language, and always waved at him whenever they passed each other in the hallway.

Rin Hiryuu was from Class 1-B as well, but hailed from China. He wasn't fluent in English like the other two, so he was the more quiet one of the three, but he was always dependable. Rin caught on in Japanese History and Maths faster than Harry and Pony did, so a majority of the time spent on those subjects was him tutoring the other two. In return they would help him with his English assignments, and they would help each other out in Japanese.

Harry felt closer to these two than he did with his classmates in 1-A, but with the short periods in the morning, and how he studied in the afternoon, it wasn't hard to see why. The wizard didn't even know most of their names, and since the teachers called on them by their numbers, it was really difficult for him to be a considerate classmate. Kirishima had invited Harry to sit with them at their table in the cafeteria, but seeing how Bakugou sat with them too, Harry thought that it would be better for both parties if he just ate alone in the classroom.

Even then calling Pony and Rin friends was an overstatement. With the rivalry between the two classes, Harry couldn't do more than give them a wave or a nod of acknowledgement. The only time they actually spoke was during this period, and that was going to change after the sports festival too.

Harry was falling under a routine already, and that was enough to scare him.

He had school in the morning, studying in the afternoon, and then he would hole himself in his hotel room under several protection charms so he could practice his wandless and non-verbal spells in peace. He eventually got a hang of it after several weeks of his spells blowing up in his face, and moved on to perfecting those spells. He even read up on healing spells, potion making from his past textbooks, and started to dabble in apparition.

With every passing day, it seemed like he was getting farther and farther away from Hogwarts.

As Hogwarts was kept in the back of his mind and U.A. taking his attention, the sports festival came before he knew it.

* * *

 _Broom, my healing kit, the Explosive Enterprises, my wand...Should I bring Pepperup potion? It is cold outside..._

The two weeks of preparation had flown right by, and now today was the day of the U.A. Sports Festival.

Harry stood in front of his bed on the Saturday morning, preparing his "care pack" for the event. He mentally checked off the list in his mind, and after making sure that everything was there, he threw it all in his tiny waist pack that he had bought for the occasion. It was a blue bag that was meant for joggers to carry only their phones with them on a run, but Harry had magically enlarged it with an Undetectable Extension Charm that Hermione had to carefully walk him through. Luckily, the original bag was flat enough to be hidden underneath his P.E. uniform. Harry was glad that this took place during a colder season too, then no one would look twice at the thermal arm sleeve he hid his wand under.

After a _mention_ of Quirks around Dean, the muggleborn happily went on an information spiral, but nothing he said could've helped the Golden Trio in avoiding the Ministry's eyes completely. Dean had told them that the U.A. Sports Festival wasn't that popular in England, because they had their own form of Quirk competitions coming up in the spring. Hermione and Ron swayed Harry away from losing purposely, and encouraged him to go get the best internship possible, but try to keep out of the spotlight most the time.

Dean also said that using verbal spells would fly completely over a muggle's head, because, "loads of Pros name their techniques and attacks all the time," but Hermione insisted that he try to get the hang of non-verbal.

After two weeks of this, Harry felt unsure, but ready for the sports festival.

He was already dressed in his gym uniform and wore a grey t shirt underneath. The waist bag was already clipped around his waist, and the uniform top was already zipped up over that. He was just about to walk to his school, and Hedwig was ready to follow him too, glad to tail Harry for a day and be in an open-air space at the same time. As he was debating whether or not he should put a Warming Charm over himself to ward off the cool, autumn winds, the two-way mirror on the nightstand started to vibrate.

Curiously, he picked up the call and blinked when he saw the reflection of his two best friends.

"Ron? Hermione? What are you guys doing? Isn't it eleven or twelve o'clock at night for you—?"

"Harry!" Ron gasped, cutting him off, face as white as a sheet.

"Katie Bell has been cursed!" Hermione finished for him, voice stricken with fear.

Harry's eyes instantly flew open and he nearly dropped the mirror.

" _What?_ "

The Gryffindor had to ease himself on his bed to take in this news. Hedwig hooted from behind him and flew to the empty space by his side.

"We were in Hogsmeade," Hermione started to explain, her tone was hurried and even from here Harry could see her chest rise and fall, "just this morning. We were about to go to the postal office and send you your parcel…"

"But then we saw Katie and her friend, um, Leanne, arguing up ahead. And Katie seemed kinda...out of it? They were tugging on a package—and Professor says that it's because Katie had a hole in her glove, so when the necklace dropped and she touched it—" Ron stopped, a loss for words. They were so stunned that even Hermione had issues conjuring up consistent thoughts.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, "necklace?"

"The cursed item was a necklace," Hermione clarified, clearing her throat. "W-We didn't want to get any closer, but it was an opal necklace," she said. Holding up her hands, she awkwardly gestured and traced the size and shape of the necklace midair. "Blue stones."

"Hagrid came right after, but…" Ron shrugged helplessly.

"It was horrifying!" her voice was a mere whisper. Hermione put her face in her hands, and Ron put an arm around her shoulder. "K-Katie rose up into the air, and her arms were outstretched, a-and her face was completely clear of any emotion...but then her eyes opened...and she screamed...and screamed…" Hermione's voice lost their shakiness and their fear, but it faded away with her last words. Her speech drifted off like waves in the ocean that were bobbing, ebbing, flowing.

"What happened?" The heart in Harry's chest started to beat harder, and the sweat of his palms made his hands slick.

"We dunno," Ron said, taking over for Hermione. "Leanne only told us that Katie came out of the Three Broomsticks' bathroom with it, and she wanted to deliver it to someone in Hogwarts or something. And then they started arguing, and we thought it was strange so..." He trailed off. Harry could connect the dots after that.

"Leanne thinks that Katie was Imperiused," Hermione said, finally speaking up again.

"I-Imperiused?" Harry gaped. If the thought of Katie being cursed made him tense with worry and stress, the idea that someone used _Imperius_ —an Unforgivable—made the boy wizard nearly want to empty his stomach at the thought. He had been Imperiused before, and while he could break out of it, the lack of free will made him grip at his own skin. "But who would—Why would anyone Imperius Katie?"

Katie Bell, while not extremely close to Harry, was a constant in his life at Hogwarts. She was his senior in Quidditch, but a team member above all that. They along with the rest of Team Gryffindor were a force. She stuck by his side during Quidditch practice, matches, and continued on to support him when he, Ron, and Hermione created Dumbledore's Army. He didn't know of anyone who would curse her intentionally, and he at least _hoped_ that not even the Slytherins were below cursing Katie when the Quidditch season didn't even officially start. She had to be what his U.A. professors called an innocent. A civilian that was just minding their own business, and had no part in the bigger picture.

"We don't know," Ron said again, but even from his tone Harry could tell that even the Weasley was getting frustrated. "No one knows what happened, not even the professors."

"Apparently we're lucky," Hermione's expression twisted. "Professor McGonagall said that if Katie had fully touched it with her bare hands...she would've died. She's—She's in St. Mungo's now."

"St. Mungo's?" Harry asked, his tone stunned. The story sunk into his skin like an ice bath, leaving him with his hair raised on the back of his neck and bumps on his arms. Hermione said that Katie managed to avoid near death because of her glove, but if Katie was sent to the hospital, how could Harry be expected to take it sitting down? _Going to St. Mungo's meant that there was always a chance that they would never come back out._ If this was something that even Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix with a flick of her wand or a sour potion down the throat, then they were dealing with something else entirely. "It was that horrible?"

They could be dealing with a murderer.

The two could only nod wordlessly, and Harry threaded his hands through his hair in reply.

"With the whole You-Know-Who thing, and this...people have been talking about leaving Hogwarts," Ron eventually said, his tone grim. Harry gasped.

"Leaving Hogwarts?" It seemed impossible to him. Eleven-year-old Harry seemed to appear in his memories and recited the words that Hagrid had give him. Hogwarts was the safest place for anyone to be, more secure than Gringotts, and as well protected as the magic in it.

Hermione nodded. "They don't think it's safe here anymore, like Dumbledore can't protect them...But after a possible attack on a student? I—" Hermione shook her head.

"W-What should I do?" Harry asked. "Should I… Should I return?" U.A. had taken a backseat in his mind. He would leave the hero academy for Hogwarts any day.

The witch waved her hand. "That's such a hasty decision, Harry," she said. "We need for everything to go back in order and control before we can fully decide. If anything, it might just be safer for you there. Your scar hasn't bothered you in a while...Voldemort can't easily reach you..." Hermione continued to mutter on.

"But we won't complain if you do come back," Ron said, cutting her off.

Harry pressed his lips together and averted his eyes.

So much was happening back at Hogwarts, _everything_ was happening in Hogwarts, he thought.

"So it's best if you stay at your hero school, Harry," Hermione finally finished.

After a pregnant pause, Harry nodded. She had a point. Hermione _always_ had a point. Yet the thought of him saying here and abandoning everyone else for his own safety left a bad taste in his mouth; but he was already here, and with his long disappearance, he couldn't just march back into Hogwarts' gates without stirring up more trouble.

"Actually, what time is it over there? Doesn't your sports festival start today?" Ron finally asked, tilting his head in confusion. Harry's eyes widened.

"The sports festival!" Harry shouted, remembering. He threw his legs off the bed and Hedwig squawked in surprise. "I almost completely forgot! I have to get going!"

The two nodded in understanding.

Just as Harry as throwing his shoes on and his bag over his shoulder Hermione called out to him.

"We'll send you your parcel soon! The one with the school books and even the Daily Prophet on Katie!"

"Got it!" Harry cursed under his breath. "I'm late!"

"Go, Harry!" Ron cheered. "Win for us!"

* * *

Harry pushed himself past the media, and because of his uniform, they all tried to hold him back. Harry was suffocated by microphones and reporters trying to find out who he was and why he was late, but Present Mic was situated in front of the gates and told him to just forget about the prep room and head to the arena.

Harry nodded, out of breath, and sprinted across the school again to head in the back of the arena. Even as his chest burned with every breath, his throat was sore from running in the cold wind, and his sides ached, he considered himself lucky. Just as Class 1-A was about to make their dynamic entry into the arena, Harry managed to catch up to them. His heavy footsteps finally slowed when he entered the tunnel in the back of the arena.

" _It's U.A.'s Sports Festival!_ " Present Mic's voice echoed throughout the large arena, shaking the speakers.

With Hedwig still perched on his shoulder, he caught his breath behind the crowd of his classmates.

" _The one time each year when our fledgling heroes compete in a ruthless grand battle!"_ the Pro hyped.

The sunlight hit them the second they left the shadowed tunnel. Confetti and screams instantly streamed the air around them.

" _First up...You know who I'm talkin' about! The miraculous rising stars that brushed off a villain attack with their steely willpower!_ "

A slow breath left Harry's lips, as his wide eyes raised to meet every corner of the stadium audience filled, His nerves thrummed throughout his body, beating like a drum. It was like the first Quidditch match all over again. Harry raised his elbow was Hedwig hopped closer to his hand.

" _The first years…of the Hero Course!_ "

The screams that resonated around the stadium grew ten times in volume.

" _It's Class 1-AAA!_ "

"You'll be watching me, won't you?" Harry gently asked Hedwig. His teammates were too busy dealing with their own nerves and the size and power of the audience to notice their strange new transfer student talking to an owl. She hooted and tugged on his hair in reply. He laughed. "Alright then, wish me good luck." Harry raised his hand and set Hedwig off into the sky. She eclipsed the sun as a white wing brushed past the sky, and Harry followed her trail of moment as she landed on one of the bars in the front seat row. Even after he turned his head away, he knew those amber eyes would watch.

"Potter!" Kirishima called. He ran to the wizard with Kaminari and Sero in tow. "There you are! You weren't in the prep room so we were worried…!"

Harry smiled politely. "You thought that I was going to ditch the festival?" He wouldn't blame them if they thought so. He almost skipped the entire thing if it weren't for Ron reminding him.

Kirishima's smile faltered, but returned with the full 10,000 watts.

"Nope!" The three boys carefully watched Harry's expression. The red riot grinned, showing off his white, sharpened teeth. "Because you did the exact same thing at U.S.J.! You seemed like the type of hero that's always late…" The Boy-Who-Lived's face morphed into one of pleasant surprise. "But always comes right when you're needed most!"

It was silent for a while, and the four boys just stared at each other, but then a gentle smile broke out on Harry's face. Soft laughter bubbled out of his chest, and the three boys widened their eyes in amazement. They don't think they've ever heard the transfer student laugh before, especially not at something Kirishima said.

"Always late…" Harry repeated after the chuckles left him.

 _Katie Bell lie in comatose on her bed in St. Mungo's._

"But always comes when needed…?"

 _A large green snake slithers down Malfoy Manor's hardwood floors to her master._

Harry looked down at his shoes with a sad smile.

"I guess...I am."

 _Looking back at the hallway, a tense Draco Malfoy walks alone._

* * *

"This!" Midnight ceremoniously declared, holding a hand out.

The electronic screen in front of everyone buzzed and blinked before the words, "Obstacle Course Race," lit up in bold, black font.

"It's a race between every member of all eleven classes. The course is a four kilometer race around the stadium itself!" the R-Rated Hero giddily announced. "Our school preaches freedom of all things!" She giggled. "So as long as you don't go off course, anything is fair game!"

Harry watched, mesmerized, as the course began to open in front of him. Two large, double doors unfolded themselves before his eyes with loud clanking sounds. The light above the gate still shone with red.

"Racers to your positions!"

Harry watched warily as everyone began to glare at what stood beyond the gate. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation. While the other students started to push themselves closer to the front, the wizard easily slipped himself towards the far back of the darkened hallway that they had corralled all of them into. He stopped several meters behind the last person and remained in the dark. He was getting antsy, but acting quickly would get him nowhere.

"Start!"

As soon as those words left Midnight's mouth, there was a big rush that left the hallway, and suddenly, it was replaced with a chill. Before Harry's eyes he saw a thin layer of ice completely cover the floor, just meters away from his feet, and he looked above. Someone had frozen the ground up in front, and crept it up on the walls. The large sea of students in front were completely frozen to the ground, unable to move, but like ants, he saw some of his classmates leap over the frost and continued on their way.

Harry waited until the mass managed to chip their way out and filtered their way up above. When there were less than a handful of people remaining, the Gryffindor decided that he couldn't wait any longer and scanned the incredibly narrow starting gate hallway once more.

No cameras.

He unzipped his P.E. shirt in one fluid motion and reached his hand in his waist pack and lifted his Firebolt right out of the five inch bag. He brandished the broom like one with a sword, and wary of losing anymore time, the wizard quickly tucked the broom under his armpit and pulled out his wand. There wasn't anyone around to see him anymore, and those who were close enough to see him were busy with what looked like giant robots up ahead.

If it was a race, he would have to rely on his broom.

Harry waved his wand and speedily cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself and made sure that his broom would be covered as well. Ignoring the feeling of a cracked egg on his head, he rushed to put his wand back in the holster, and zipped up his shirt again.

He hiked a leg over his broom and with one strong kick off, he zipped straight out of the starting point.

The wind through his hair and the sensation of flying were comforting feelings, even as he maneuvered past flying shards of ice, random blasts from the students around him, and the giant robots that stood in everybody's way. Harry was used to flying wildly though, and easily moved past all of these obstacles with ease. He flew up and dove down, shifted right and veered left, dodging the mechanical arms that could swat him like a fly, and the ice pieces that were moving fast enough to kill.

In less than a minute, he had cleared the first obstacle.

Harry flew until his classmate was just up ahead. The two-toned hair was easy to spot and he was in the lead, running at a brisk pace. He didn't know his name, but he recognized him from his bi-colored hair. Harry didn't know what his Quirk was either, but considering he was blazing forward at first place, and the air around his left side felt like Petunia's cooler, Harry had a hunch. Before he could pass him, the sound of fireworks going off sounded and Harry's head snapped behind him.

Bakugou was speeding up, blasting forward on the explosions that he released from his hands and the rest of the crowd was right behind him. Harry quickly pulled on the smooth wood of the broom and lifted himself higher in the air. Even though they wouldn't be able to see him, they'd still be able to run right into him.

Harry went at a slower pace than he was used to. He could easily be neck and neck with the front runners, but he thought it was better if he had them having out the surprises that laid ahead was better than possibly being knocked off his broom and dropping the Disillusionment charm as he crashed to the ground. Especially by something that he could easily avoid.

The next obstacle was a deep cavern that they had strung ropes across. With no surprises jumping up from its depths, Harry easily flew over it.

After that it was was field of landmines. Harry had to dodge the students that flew through the air, and the pink clouds that rose out of the activated bombs, but other than that it was smooth sailing.

It was just then a large explosion suddenly shook the ground below. Harry's eyes widened at the enormous, pink smoke cloud behind him, and he gaped at the sheer size of it. He sat on his broom, frozen in the air, wondering if it was another obstacle, or if it was a poor student who was unlucky enough to land on a big one.

A whistle in the air sounded in his ears and from years of Quidditch training, Harry's eyes instantly honed in the speeding figure that cut through the air like a bullet. Harry's jaw dropped like an anvil. It was the green-haired classmate who flew through the air. He held on to a metal plate that he had taken from one of the robots back there, and from the smoke and power, he must've detonated a bunch of mines at once to purposely knock himself ahead. In two whole seconds, Deku soared high enough to be in the same sky as the wizard.

"He takes the lead!" Present Mic roared. The audience around them screamed as they were whipped into a frenzy and the volume increased tenfold.

Harry snapped out of it and pushed his broom back into motion. The Firebolt broke fifty miles per hour in five seconds, and he left Deku, Katsuki, and Todoroki in his dust.

 _I can't take first place_ , he thought, thinking of Hermione and Ron. His hands tightened around his broom. _I can't take something that will bring a load of attention to me._

Looking behind him, he spotted the three boys gaining speed.

 _Seventh place_ , he pleaded mentally. Harry whipped his head around and looked back at the open-ended hallway. _That's what I have to aim for! Seventh place_!

Not the top three, but in the top ten. Not noticeable, but not far behind.

Harry speeded into the tunnel and took the broom out from under him before his feet could touch the ground. He quickly put it back into his bag and then counted the seconds off in his head.

In under three seconds, Deku's feet roughly slammed into the ground with every step and he broke through the entrance. Not even one step behind him was Katsuki and Todoroki, blazing through with explosions to gain momentum and covering the walls with ice.

 _Now!_

Harry dropped the spell hiding him and he took his hand off the wall. The two boys rushed past him, unseeing everything except for what was in front of them, and Harry took off running. Then came a girl and a guy from Class 1-B, then his class president about to take sixth. After counting down, Harry sprinted out.

The sunlight peaked and his pupils shrank from the harsh light the second he rushed past the tunnel.

For a while that was all that he could see, but the white light faded away and he was finally greeted with the sights around him. Confetti and streamers fell from the sky like freshly fallen snow and the enthusiastic shouts from the crowd only grew louder by the second. The three boys around him were breathing heavily, their chests rising and falling with every desperate breath they got to regain their energy.

Harry's eyes drifted to Deku, Katsuki, then to the two-toned boy, and saw that he was looking right back at him.

Green eyes widened, startled at the heterochromic gaze that was sent his way.

 _Did he see me?_ Harry asked, worriedly. Sweat broke out and he wondered if he should've waited a little while longer before dropping the spell, maybe far after the two had left the tunnel, but his adrenaline was pushing him too fast.

However, no matter what, the Half-Cold, Half-Hot user was looking for something that he wouldn't be able to find.

Nervous, Harry broke the eye contact first and looked away. He distracted himself by drifting his eyes around the empty space in the middle of the stadium, before bringing his eyes up to the sun, where the scoreboard was.

His heart beat once.

Harry's name was there, the only one in Roman letters, listed right beside seventh place.

The sounds in his ear were suddenly muffled, and now the loudest sound he could hear was the beat of his own heart and eardrum.

The Gryffindor went up the list, and Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto were above, taking third and second respectively.

His blood suddenly felt cold, and his heart dropped to his stomach.

The name _Midoriya Izuku_ took first place.

This couldn't be possible, Harry thought, his mind running a mile a minute. His stomach suddenly lurched with the urge of emptying his already empty stomach. Mr. Midoriya's bloodied body flashed through his mind. The coincidence that this would've been, how he's been sitting in the same classroom with Mr. Midoriya's son for two whole weeks but wasn't able to do anything about it. But it was there, the same characters of "green," "valley," "coming out," and "long ago," and he knew that this was too specific to be a coincidence.

It all made sense now.

The green eyes.

The dark hair.

The muttering and the similar face.

A hand slapped around Harry's mouth as he tried to quell his heavy breaths.

He dropped his hand and whipped his head around. He was too caught up in his own thoughts that he had missed the explanation for the second phase, but at this moment in time, Harry didn't care.

 _I'm such an idiot!_ Harry thought.

He didn't care about the whispers of the cavalry battle, the formation of teams happening around, and the talk of a 10,000,000 point prize. He just pushed past everyone with quick apologies and "Excuse me!"s as he tried to locate the one person he'd been chasing these past months.

 _I have to find Midoriya Izuku!_

Harry roughly shoved aside some students that tried to get him to join their group, for the seventh place points that were placed on his shoulder, but he wasn't having any of it. Harry was on a one track mind.

The crowd became lighter as more and more groups were being made by the second, and that finally split the crowd. Izuku was standing by himself, shaking like a scared puppy and glancing nervously at the people surrounding him. He was being avoided like the plague.

 _There!_ Harry thought, eyes instantly locking in on the messy green hair and small stature.

With a lurch forward after he broke apart from the masses, and the green-haired boy was almost an arm's length away.

"Mido—!" Harry tried to say.

A figure suddenly stepped in front of him, breaking his contact with Midoriya. Harry dug his soles into the ground to force his body to brake just before he rammed right into the male.

He was tall, with long and messy purple hair that seemed to stand straight up out of his skull. His hand was in his pocket and dark eyes looked down at the wizard, streaked with deep bags underneath.

"Hello," the male said simply, his tone flat. Harry only grew more agitated by the second, and his heart beat uncontrollably. The Gryffindor really didn't want to have to deal with another invitation to form a team right now, and all of these people trying to pull him aside were becoming and obstacle on their own. The sports festival was the last thing on his mind, and if he could, he would quit it altogether if that meant he could talk with Midoriya Izuku. Harry huffed irritably, exhaling out of his nose.

"Excuse me—!"

The world went black after that.


	11. Chapter Ten

Shinso Hitoshi wanted to be a hero.

 _How he want to be a hero._

However, life was flawed. First with U.A.'s bias toward physical abilities that made it impossible for him to pass the Hero Course's exam, and second with the image that followed him and his Quirk. The false inevitable that he was more suited to become a villain by nature.

With everyone telling him that he would be a villain, he started to believe it too, so he started to despise those with dazzling Quirks.

But, he'll show them.

He'll become a better hero than all of them.

* * *

His head was filled with fog.

Harry didn't know what was left and what was right, what time of day it was, or what was happening around him. All he knew was that his body was moving, but he didn't will it to. But he couldn't stop either. It felt like he was moving in a dream, listlessly, endlessly.

He found that it was a dream he couldn't wake up from.

None of his limbs would move when he wanted them to, and Harry's inner turmoil churned with this useless struggle.

He was a prisoner of his own mind.

Then, he wasn't.

There was a violent snapping sound in his brain, and it was like he had bungee jumped off the Astronomy Tower. It jolted him back to reality as fast as a lighting strike.

Harry collapsed instantly, falling forward on the dust-covered ground and catching himself on his knees and palms. His chest rose and fell with every greedy gulp of air he took and his numb muscles on his arms and legs pulsed from being strained for so long.

He looked up, scanning the arena that they were in. The ground was made of tartan track and still smelled strongly of rubber, burning his nostrils with the scent. Spikes of ice were sticking out of the ground, and patches of blackened rubber littered the floor. The wizard looked around in confusion, watching as teams separated from each other. Confetti was falling from the sky again.

 _What in bloody hell happened…?_ he asked himself. Harry stood up straighter, and saw the back of the man with the purple, spiked hair. His irritation immediately replaced all feelings of confusion. He was the only person that Harry remembered seeing before all had gone black. The Gryffindor stepped forward with all intents of confronting the teen, but his sleeve was suddenly pulled on.

"Huh?" Harry turned around and saw that it was one of his classmates, the blond one with the large tail.

"A-Ah, Potter-kun, wait! He's not worth it!" Ojiro said just as the purple-haired managed to slip away silently and the rest of the competitors scattered the moment Present Mic announced a one hour lunch break. Harry spun his head around caught only a trail of tears, wrinkling his brow in confusion until he realized that Midoriya was gone.

He turned back to the blond and the boy sheepishly dropped his hand from Harry.

"Oh," he said, putting a hand to the back of his neck, "sorry about that, but it looked like you were about to run after him…"

"I was," Harry bluntly said, slowly heading toward the exit so Ojiro could follow if he wanted to. He had to catch up to Midoriya somehow.

"Ah...Is that so…" Ojiro said. "You're probably upset about what happened, but it's best if we're not confrontational. But before you woke up, I saw the screen—don't worry, we passed." The tailed-teen spoke in an attempted comforting manner, and he thought that the stress that was building up in Harry was the stress of the sports festival.

"Really?" Harry blinked, almost letting a small amount off the weight on him drop, but then he furrowed his eyebrows and turned back to the blond. "Wait a minute, if you were in a team with me, how do you know?"

"He talked to me and I answered back, and before I knew it everything blacked out—" Harry connected the dots then: talking to the purple-haired boy, or replying to him would activate his mind-control Quirk. "During the cavalry battle, someone bumped into me and I just woke up, I guess," Ojiro said when the two settled in a hallway. "It's probably one of the factors of Shinso's Quirk, so you shouldn't beat yourself up over it," he finished awkwardly.

Harry gave a strained smile, embarrassed about how his rage was caught by the blond. "Was I that obvious?"

The blond returned a sheepish smile of his own. "You look pretty upset over it, but his Quirk can probably only be broken by outside intervention, and not a will." That smile of his grew a little wider. "And even if it was...we're just students."

At that, Harry looked down at his sneakers.

Harry wasn't ordinary; he managed to break the Imperious Curse before, and it frustrated him to his bones that he wasn't able to break this one. If he wasn't able to have his free will this time around, against a student from the General Department, what did that mean next time around? He was lucky enough that no one had called him out on waving a wand; Harry didn't even know if he _used_ his wand at all.

"I'm going to drop out of the next event," Ojiro suddenly said. Harry's head snapped up and he stared at the blond as if he had grown two heads.

"What?"

"The sports festival is a great opportunity," he started out, but then his face twisted with a deep frown and tight-knit eyebrows, "but I feel like everyone worked so hard to advance to the next round, while I didn't do anything. I'd feel ashamed if I just moved on."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and his cheeks started to color too as he compared himself to Ojiro and a pit of shame almost set itself ablaze in his chest.

 _He's really honorable..._ Harry thought, _He'd make a great Gryffindor._ He looked at Ojiro as if he was looking at his classmate for the first time, and he wondered if all of his other classmates were just like this. If Harry was undermining them as well, as if Harry only saw them as characters on pages or shadows in the foreground as he just sat in his classroom counting the days away.

"Is it…" Harry swallowed his saliva. "Is it alright if I continue?"

Ojiro looked at Harry with slightly glassy eyes and gave him a strained smile. "That's not up to me to answer. The sports festival is a big event." Ojiro started to walk past Harry and gave him one last smile. "I won't think of you any less, Potter-kun, if you do. I wish you good luck."

Harry watched as he left the hallway and looked down at the tiles beneath him. Harry had his pride too, but this was something he couldn't just give up; not for Hermione and Ron, and definitely not for himself.

For the remainder of the hour, Harry asked around for Midoriya, but Uraraka, the girl in the short brown hair, and Iida, the class president, said that the nervous teen was asked to talk privately with Todoroki and hasn't been seen since.

Grudgingly, Harry forced himself to get a small lunch of an onigiri, and the next thing he knew, the one-on-one battles started.

* * *

It was just his luck that Midoriya's fight was first and that Harry's fight was fourth, meaning that the two would never have an opportunity to see each other between the actual matches, visits to Recovery Girl, and staying in the waiting rooms.

Inwardly, he wondered if Merlin above hated him or something as life seemed to treat Midoriya and him like two magnets that constantly repelled each other. Harry came to Japan to do just one thing; can't he just do it?

It was almost enough to make him want to pull his hair. To think that he passed by Midoriya Izuku almost everyday, and sat just a handful of seats away from him this entire time.

Instead he was sitting in the stands of the arena with Hedwig on his lap, watching Midoriya and Shinso face off. The second Present Mic shouted, "Start!" Harry was immediately on the edge of his seat.

The two stood apart from each other in the middle of the stadium, and while Harry couldn't hear him from here, he saw Shinso's mouth move, provoking Deku into talking.

It was obvious when the General Education student did strike a nerve; Midoriya wore his heart on his sleeve and instantly spat at the purple-haired student, only to snap his jaw shut instantly and straighten up with a blank stare.

" _Midoriya's frozen in place?!_ " Present Mic shreaked. " _Looking confounded, he's not even twitching! Is this Shinso's Quirk?!_ "

A choked gasp left Harry's lips and the teen instantly leaned forward.

"I warned him!" Ojiro cried beside Harry, running a hand through his blond hair in worry.

A tense five minutes passed, as everyone watched with every agonizing second as Midoriya Izuku willingly walked toward the end of the rink. Harry had half a mind to stand up out of his seat and cry folly. The green-haired boy was under the Imperius Curse's look-a-like, and didn't anyone want to stop that?

But just as Midoriya lifted a foot just above the boundaries, a large gale suddenly pushed out of the arena. The classmates around him cried out and Harry had to shield his eyes to keep from drying out and kept an arm tight around the screeching snowy white owl to keep her from flying away.

" _Midoriya…_ " Present Mic rolled off his tongue. " _He stopped!_ "

Nearly all of Class 1-A trained their eyes on Midoriya's fingers. Harry had to hold back a shout when he saw that his middle and index fingers was completely purple and blue from being battered. Izuku's fingers looked liked Dobby's when the house elf shamefully said that he slammed them against multiple doors as self-punishment.

"His fingers...To think that he would go that far," the blond beside Harry shakily said.

"What's wrong with his fingers?" Harry asked Ojiro.

"Huh?" The tailed-teen looked over at Harry and a look of confusion passed as quickly as it came. "That's right, you weren't here to see Midoriya-kun fight."

"When he uses his Quirk, Midoriya's drawback is injuring his body," the girl beside Ojiro spoke up. Her dark hair was closely cropped, but her earlobes dropped down into what looked like the plug for Dudley's phones.

" _What?_ " Harry gasped out. He'd never heard of that one before. He's heard of a lot of weird drawbacks in the past, such as a bad craving for sugar, a jittery body, but never one that would legitimately beat up the body from the inside out.

"Midoriya-chan always has to visit Recovery Girl after using his Quirk," Tsuyu added from the row behind them. "It was especially bad when he fought Bakugou-chan."

"Are you talking shit about me?!" The loud voice rang from the other side of the seats, but the people around Harry chose to ignore it.

"Merlin's beard!" Harry quietly cursed, suddenly up in arms in worry. He was quick to turn his head back to the fight, but internally he wondered if there was a spell for the drawback. Maybe a potion or two that wouldn't fix the problem, but would heal the injury.

Harry breathed out in anticipation and turned his head to Shinso. The taller teen was visibly nervous, and that made the greedy part of Harry satisfied. He wasn't going to lie if someone asked him if he was supporting Izuku all the way.

The smaller boy dashed forward, and reached out to grab Shinso's shoulders. The General student landed a hard punch on Izuku's cheek, but the green-haired teen just leaned into the punch and the two grappled.

A vibrating shout left Izuku's throat, and the boy snatched Shinso's arm and threw him over his shoulder—and out of bounds.

"Shinso is out of the ring!" Midnight called, brandishing her whip. "Midoriya moves on to the second round!"

Almost all of Class 1-A jumped out of their seats and shouted in victory. Harry stood up out of his seat, and the large smile on his face couldn't be mistaken.

* * *

Next up was Todoroki Shoto versus Kaminari—a horrible one-sided defeat from what Harry heard. The half-and-half teen froze the blond into oblivion with a large ice wall before the blond could even short-circuited himself out. Even the words managed to get a chill up Harry's spine; from the rumors, they even said that the ice wall manage to rise above the entire arena. He even saw it from the confines of his waiting room as he counted away the seconds before he entered the rink. The ice wall was enough to completely cover his window from all the sunlight.

He felt that he should be nervous, maybe just a hint of that creeping nervousness that he felt before a Quidditch match, or before the Triwizard Tournament, but other than a slightly uneasy stomach, he couldn't push himself to feel a budding excitement.

Maybe it was because he was going up against Sero, and the easy-going brunet seemed a lot more tame in comparison to the Hungarian Horntail that he had to go up against. Or at least—he hoped the lanky teen wasn't going to chase him around the school or throw him against rocks while attempting to barbeque him.

Yet, even as Harry told himself all of this, he couldn't get over the tick of shaking his leg or tapping his fingers on the table. His room was incredibly quiet, and the unbearably loud clock above the wall seemed to be put there just to get on students' nerves.

He wondered if he should call Ron or Hermione, but reminded himself that it was at least eleven or twelve o'clock at night for them. The next few minutes was spent trying to plan out just exactly what he was going to say to Izuku.

Maybe Harry looked just a bit too eager when he was called in to the ring. The downtime was getting to him, even if his wait was cut short.

The wizard was led to the ring by lackluster cheers and him and Sero shared a sheepish smile together.

" _The cream of the crop!_ " Present Mic introduced. " _Yet he's still as plain as they come! Sero Hanta of the Hero Course! Versus…! The mysterious European transfer student! Potter Harry, also from the Hero Course!_ "

They certainly weren't an interesting bunch; not first place like Midoriya, and didn't throw themselves into the scuffle and spotlight like Bakugou or Todoroki. But there was an interested murmur about him that flowed through the audience. The Gryffindor guessed that being a foreigner and late transfer did that, but he was an expert at ignoring unnecessary gossip about himself, and turned to Sero.

The sellotape-hero dropped his hand from his neck and gave Harry a grin before outstretching a hand.

"Hey, man," Sero said good-naturedly. "No matter what happens, no hard feelings between us, yeah?"

A meger smile reached Harry's own lips, and he returned the firm handshake with a heavy nod.

"Yeah," Harry said. That lifted some of the anxiety from his shoulders. It laid in the back of his mind of a while, the thought that if he had to go up against his classmates that it would ostracize him further, but he was happy to know that they wouldn't hold it against him. This really was a hero school.

" _What sportsmanship!_ " Present Mic cooed, a wave of rising cheers following right after.

"To be honest…" Sero said, stretching almost languidly, "I don't feel like winning…" Not even a millisecond later, that easy-going personality was thrown aside and two strips of Sero's tape was heading right for Harry. They wrapped around the wizard's body and Harry felt his feet rising above the ground. "But I don't feel like losing either!" Sero waved his arms, and brought the tape with him.

Harry's body was flying with the momentum as Sero yanked the cellophane.

" _He's trying to push him out with a surprise attack! Probably the best strategy for him! Sero's giving it his all!_ " A wave of cheers followed Present Mic's announcement. Harry's body flew through the air and wind brushed through his wild hair.

The wizard forced himself to snap out of it, and instantly racked his brain for a spell. Just centimeters away from his shoes meeting the white line of the ring's boundaries, the spells that raced through his head and the fighter's instinct finally was forced to a stop in his brain.

" _Relashio_!" Harry cast, his wand hand on the bindings that wrapped around him. In a flash of muted purple light, the tape around him expelled into limp strands.

Sero gasped and reeled his tape back before jumping back to a safer distance. Glancing up, surprise colored Sero's pale face.

" _Potter managed to break free from Sero's tape! How did he do that?!_ " the blond Pro announced, shouting and on the edge of every development.

 _Sorry_ , Harry internally winced and apologized for the spells he was about to cast. He dashed forward on a speed that startled Sero, and the teen quickly shot out a stream of tape as fast as his reflexes could allow. Harry's eyes widened before he instinctively reached a hand out. A cheer left Sero's lips when the tape successfully wrapped around Harry's wrist.

The tape on his bare skin felt uncomfortable and tight, and he struggled to free himself. Harry's eyes caught on and realized that it was his left hand. His wand arm was still open. The wizard grit his teeth and sent a Temporary Sticking Charm down at his feet just as Sero attempted to yank him forward again. Harry's body leaned forward with the pull, but his feet remained on the hard ground.

"H-Huh?" the tape-hero cried out from the resistance, especially not one that he would expect from a teen that looked like he weighed no more than fifty-six kilograms. Taking advantage of the second's opening that Sero left, Harry gripped the tape with both hands and pulled forward with all of his strength. Before Sero could even notice what was happening before his eyes, Harry slammed a hand on his chest and pushed forward.

" _Stupefy_!"

The brunet cried out and flew back several meters, right out of the rink. The tape from Harry's wrist unraveled and was retracted by Sero. He landed on the ground and rolled over, unconscious. That flash of red that blanketed his green eyes was replaced with a cloud of brown dust.

Midnight instantly dashed forward and checked the teen's vitals. Harry waited awkwardly in these seconds that felt like minutes, and instinctively straightened the moment Midnight stood up.

"Sero Hanta is out of bounds and unable to go forward." She cracked her whip in the dumbfounded wizard's direction. "Potter Harry advances to the next round!"

For some reason, the cheers in the arena were deaf to him.

* * *

"And he's alright?" Harry unsurely asked again even as he backed out the door.

Recovery Girl was the one ushering him out gently, and in the background of her makeship nurse's office, he could see the sleeping figure of Sero in one of the beds behind her.

"Yes, dear," the wizened nurse said gently. "Unless, of course, there's something else about your Quirk that you would like to tell me?" The tiny Pro-Hero looked up at him expectantly.

Harry shook his head at that, wild strands of hair flowing with the movement. That's all she needed to know about the Stunning Spell.

"No," he said, "he should just be unconscious…" That's what Stupefy _did_ , but Harry had never used the spell on another muggle before. At least not a muggle that he should be worried about, his own classmate, for Merlin's sake.

"I understand that you're worried about him, dear, but his vitals seem to be fine. You didn't give him any physical injuries—he's technically just in deep sleep. Looks like all we have to do is wait for him to wake up again." His chest eased at this information, and the some of the guilt was lifted as he looked at a sleeping Sero on the nurse's bed.

"Ah…" Harry said awkwardly. "Alright."

With one last nudge, the nurse finally managed to banish Harry from the small office, and the wizard shuffled off.

His Potter Luck didn't land him in the Hospital Wing after the first round, and he counted that as an accomplishment alone. His mind started to drift off toward all of the moments that he landed himself in a cot back in Hogwarts, and he thought that maybe things were actually looking up now. The fact of his win didn't even hit him until now, and he realized that he had to prepare for another battle, but as of right now he might even have enough time to make it back to Midoriya and ask to talk to him in private.

As he was lost in his own thoughts, his shoulder bumped into someone else's and Harry lifted his head up from the impact.

"Oh, sorry—" His voice was lost to him when he saw that it was the purple-haired student, Shinso. " _Hey!_ " Harry shouted in English, before he caught himself and frowned. "It's you!"

"Hm?" The taller teen looked boredly at him, tilting his head and looking Harry in the eye. "Oh, it's you."

The blood in the Gryffindor's veins boiled and Harry grabbed Shinso's collar to prevent him from turning away.

"What was the big idea?" he demanded. Shinso pushed Harry's hand away from his shirt and he finally released, but didn't back down. The sleepy teen looked apathetic at what was happening around him, but the slightest twitch of his eyebrow revealed his true irritation.

"About what?" Shinso drawled, smoothing his wrinkled shirt.

The wizard grit his teeth together, growing more and more agitated by Shinso's nonchalant attitude. Harry wanted to shout, he wanted to scream. The teen's Quirk was just like the Imperius Curse, and nothing dug deeper into Harry's bones than that; the fact that it was an Unforgivable Curse was explanatory on its own. Maybe the other students could live with it, but the wizard knew just how vile it was. There was no doubt about it; the boy had a vile Quirk. But Shinso couldn't help what Quirk he was born with—and Harry's head was screwed on tight enough to acknowledge this.

"You used your Quirk on me!" was the only thing Harry could gasp out.

"So?" The teen's voice was low, but it contained enough sharpness to cut through Harry's next words. The next intake of breath was locked in his throat. "It's the sports festival." The teen finally exclaimed with his arms out. "We have the freedom to do anything we could to get to the top. You just happened to be someone from the crowd." Harry's head snapped up and his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. An emotion twisted itself in his chest, but there wasn't anymore strain and stress on his shoulders. It was…

 _Relief_? he thought.

Shinso didn't go after Harry because he was Harry, but because he was just there. He took a step back in surprise, but after the moment finally snapped in his brain like rubber band, Harry spun around on his teen and was about to walk off. That deep-paranoia was still settled in his head, but he wouldn't have to worry about any more attacks on his free will. As long as he kept the cries of, "Constant Vigilance!" in his head he would be fine. He didn't know what he was looking for by going after Shinso, but he didn't feel like he need to search anymore.

Harry might've found his resolution, but the bitterness of Shinso's loss was still fresh on the Mindcontroller's wounds. Harry's confrontation only served to anger Shinso.

"You were useless anyway," Shinso called out when Harry was three meters away, and his head perked up the second the voice carried through. The wizard's footsteps slowed to a stop and he turned around with a questionable look. "You didn't even pull any weight during the Chivalry Battle," the teen continued, walking up until he was eye-to-eye with Harry again.

"What?" Harry asked, his tone sincerely confused. He didn't know if he should be offended or defend his honor out of nowhere.

Shinso's expressions remained schooled in the face of confrontation.

"No matter how many times I said, 'Use your Quirk,' you didn't do anything at all." Green eyes widened to the size of saucers. "And you still managed to make it to the second round. The other one was foolish for quitting, but at least he did something. Just another reason why you people in the Hero Course are so lucky."

Harry blinked, and relief washed over him like a sudden shower. He thanked Merlin that Shinso used that exact wording: "Use your Quirk." If he had used the word, "Power" or "Ability," then Harry wouldn't know what would happen. He could've whipped his wand out in front of millions of people, and exposed them all. He may be a wizard, but he was still Quirkless.

But then another thought caught on. Him, lucky? Harry was called many things and went by many names in both muggle and magic schools, but lucky was never one of them.

"Lucky?" he finally voiced.

"People like you who are born with nice, heroic Quirks—you can reach your goal while everyone else has to struggle to get to your spot!" Shinso finally shouted at him, making the wizard jump slightly. Shinso was so close now that his reflection could be seen on Harry's glasses.

"But you have a powerful Quirk!" Harry tried to say, stepping several feet behind him so he wasn't on the verge of a backflip anymore, but he continued to lean forward. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't understand why the purple-haired teen was suddenly hostile toward him. He suddenly felt like he was a child again, listening to the taunts and jeers of the kids around him for not having a Quirk.

"Tch! A person like you would never understand! Me, who wants to be a hero, but with a Quirk like this, you can only get people saying that you would make a better villain than a hero!" The teen finally huffed and looked away. "It's not a strong Quirk, because I wasn't able to pass the physical exam, and it's not an accepted Quirk, so I'm barely seen as one!"

All of the resentment finally built up inside him until this moment, and even though his classmates in the General Course cheered him on, his loss was still as raw as ever.

The hallway that they stood in was silent for a while, save for their soft breaths. Shinso turned away with his hands in his pockets and looked out the large windows, staring up at the sky that was littered with colors.

"You…" Harry finally breathed out, unsure of where to start.

 _You don't know your worth_ , was what he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to continue. With a Quirk like that, Shinso would be able to walk circles around even wizards.

"What?" the General teen spat out when it was obvious that Harry wasn't going to finish his sentence.

Harry swallowed his saliva before he finally spoke again.

"You let their words get to you?" he asked. Shinso's head snapped back and he started at Harry with a fire in his eyes that he had never seen before on the normally passive teen. Harry stared back, but a nervous habit made him flatten his bangs.

"Like you know—!"

"I do!" the wizard shouted, silencing the other teen instantly.

 _Heir of Slytherin. Cheat. Killer. Parseltongue._

"I know," Harry repeated firmly. "And you should know—um, I mean, at first I thought the same...That your Quirk can be used for evil—that's true," he admitted, and Shinso narrowed his eyes, but Harry continued. "But you of all people should know...that as your own person, you can do good things. They can say you're a villain all they want, but if you want to be a hero, you go out and be a hero," he finished, looking at the silent Shinso. "At least...that's what I believe."

"They'll only continue to see you as a villain if you act like one," he continued when Shinso remained quiet. "So if you just go around the way you do, you're not doing yourself a favor by putting all that anger out on the Hero Course and proving them right!" Those tired eyes was unnerving him. "Just—just ask next time you want to use your Quirk or...or something."

The hallway was silent again, and Harry's skin prickled with nervousness and anxiety. He didn't know what came over him with that small lackluster speech. Shinso wasn't a member of Dumbledore's Army who would follow his word, but he was a student like him. He was just about to leave again, until Shinso spoke up.

"Idiot," Shinso eventually replied, voice soft. "I already know that I'm going to be a hero, so I'm already ignoring the voices that are calling me a villain!" He spun around completely and him and Harry were locking eyes again. "I'm going to be a better hero than you and all of the Hero Course!"

A hand fell to the back of Harry's neck and the wizard laughed softly.

"I guess I was just rambling for myself then." He laughed and dropped the hand. "I look forward to that day then."

* * *

 _What a weird guy_ , Shinso thought, watching the back of the transfer student become smaller and smaller with every step. Without another word, he turned on his heel and started to walk away too.

 _"Just—just ask next time you want to use your Quirk or...or something."_

No resentment, no crying wolf at the "villain" in front of him, only a small scolding.

It...wasn't a bad feeling.

He'd definitely keep an eye on Potter Harry and Midoriya Izuku.

* * *

On his way out of the hallway, Harry managed to catch Tokoyami Fumikage, the dark, strange, birdlike classmate of his, and politely asked what happened while he was gone.

Harry missed the entirety of the first round, and the second round was just making its way around.

Kirishima was stuck fighting a guy with a hardening Quirk just like this, a boy named Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu (why his parents just repeated the name twice, Harry didn't know) and they were so alike that they knocked each other out and got a tie. When both came to, they had an arm wrestle and Kirishima came out victorious.

Iida had to fight a girl named Shiozaki Ibara from Class 1-B with a Vine Quirk. He managed to defeat her by quickly using an ability of his called Recipro Burst and got her out of bounds.

Tokoyami was up against Yaoyorozu, his vice president from what Harry could remember, and the male stated that he struck first. Yaoyorozu panicked and quickly created a shield, but with Dark Shadow, Tokoyami managed to run her out of bounds before she could realize what was happening.

Ashido from their class was up against Hatsume Mei, an eccentric girl from the Support Course. Apparently their match was on a weird advertising spiral, until the last minute when Ashido melted though one of the equipment with her acid. Worried for her "Babies!" Hatsume quickly surrendered.

Yet the most interesting match was against Uraraka and Bakugou.

"Uraraka?" Harry asked Tokoyami, who was leaning against one of the walls. "From our class?"

"Yes," he said, unfolding his arms and straightening up. "She put up a good fight, and used many clever tactics, but Katsuki was such a powerhouse that…" Tokoyami trailed off, landing his eyes on the ground beside them, but Harry got the hint. Bakugou was just too strong.

"Oh…" Harry asked, the blond's face fresh in his mind. "He didn't go easy on her...did he?" Uraraka was hurt from the battle, there was no doubt about it, but Harry couldn't help but wonder if Bakugou went all out, or played with her like a harp. In his mind he tried to map out how it could've have possibly gone down. He wondered if it had gone smoothly, but then he remembered that the word "smooth" probably wasn't in Bakugou's vocabulary.

Tokoyami shook his bird-like head. "No, quite the opposite. I guess...Katsuki saw even her as an admirable opponent and fought her seriously until the end." His tone was soft, but distant as he thought back to the explosive battle.

Other people might have saw it as ruthless, but with the way Tokoyami worded it, it might have made Harry respect Bakugou better. Uraraka was one of the kids that was in Izuku's circle of friends, from what he saw from basic observation, but she was a cute-looking, seemingly sweet girl. Definitely not one that people would take seriously as a hero at first glance, but Harry knew of a Hermione Granger, and the bright witch would never want anyone to undermine her just because she was a girl. Hermione was a witch and a girl yes, but she was also strong willed and smarter and more powerful than people would like to give her credit for.

Tokoyami pushed off the wall completely. "Don't let me keep you," he said when Harry had no more questions. "You should make your way back to the waiting rooms."

"The waiting rooms?" Harry asked as the humanoid was walking away. He had just came from there. "Why?" He tilted his head in confusion.

The beaked teen looked back as if Harry had gone crazy. "You don't know?" he asked incredulously.

The wizard could only shake his head as he ignored the strange stare from the bird's eyes.

"Right now is Midoriya's battle with Kirishima, but your fight is right after his." Tokoyami spoke slowly, as if he was unsure of whether or not to feed Harry this information or if the wizard was just baiting him by acting like an oblivious idiot.

The words, "So soon?" almost slipped from Harry's lips, but then he remembered that he spent a while speaking with Shinso. Time must've slipped through his fingers.

When Harry's expression didn't smooth out, he asked again, "Do you...know who you are fighting?" That questioning tone never left, if anything it became stronger.

"No," Harry admitted sheepishly, patting his bangs down. "I don't…" He gave the cloaked teen a nervous look and a wondering glance. "Erm, can you—?"

"Todoroki Shoto," Tokoyami said gently, despite wondering why Harry didn't bother checking the tournament brackets. "You're fighting Todoroki."

"Oh," escaped from Harry's lips before he quickly thanked Tokoyami for all this information and made his way toward the waiting rooms again. The two parted ways with a nod and a wave.

He thought about Todoroki Shoto, and the teen's face popped into his head with his half-and-half hair and scarred face. He might not know a lot of his classmates, but he could recognize one of the stronger forces in the sports festival, and recognize that strange hair. Todoroki didn't introduce himself to Harry, definitely. Harry didn't know a lot about him either, other than the fact that many of the girls liked him for his pretty face, and he was the one with the ice Quirk.

The wizard settled into his seat in the waiting room and watched the fight between Midoriya and Kirishima on the screen in the room.

He admittedly didn't have a strong feeling about his upcoming fight, but he hoped that he can get it over with soon.

It was then he remembered the large ice wall that managed to blanket his window from the fourth floor.

Harry uttered what could possibly be his last words as he placed his face in his hands.

"Merlin, why is it always me?"

* * *

 _ **Extra**_ :

A snowy white owl wildly squaked and flapped her wings beside a sickly, blond man during the Chivalry Battle.

Yagi Toshinori recognized her as Potter Harry's beautiful owl, the one that tried to get into the nurse's room when the boy was still unconscious, but now she was here watching his performance. The people in the seats behind them groaned and tried to look over the mess of white feathers and loud bird shrieks, but Hedwig was determined.

She flew over to the armrest beside Yagi and the skinny man blinked his dark eyes. She looked up at him with wide, waiting eyes.

She couldn't have possibly recognized him, right? His two forms were completely different! But he remembered the cunningness of Principal and wondered if it was an animal instinct thing.

Hedwig looked as if she was trying to speak to him in short hoots, and Yagi tilted his head.

"Ah… W-What is it?" the Pro-Hero asked, feeling slightly silly for talking to a regular animal that didn't have a Quirk.

Hedwig pointed with her wing and pulled on one of his long, blond bangs with her beak.

Down below, Harry walked with a blank expression and empty eyes as he carried along a purple-haired teen. Brainwashed, Yagi guessed.

"You're worried for your owner?" he asked, his head turned sideways when Hedwig wouldn't release her hold on his bang. She ruffled up her feathers as an affirmative. "A-Ah...but I can't help Young Potter…! I can't interfere with it."

Amber eyes only hardened.

"W-Wait! You can't fly down there either!" the man was a mess of blond hair and flailing arms as he grabbed the bird preparing for flight.

 _Chomp._

"Ow! _Shit!_ "

. . .

All Might, Number One Hero, couldn't look Recovery Girl in the eye when she asked how he got all these scratches, bite marks, and scars.

* * *

 ** _A/N_** :

I've updated Chapter Five. It's nothing major, but it is a different plot point for how Harry managed to get into U.A..


	12. Chapter Eleven

Midoriya and Kirishima put up a good fight.

Izuku struck with one flick of a finger after another against Kirishima's hardening Quirk. However Kirishima remained standing and in bounds after every tough gale like an unwavering cliff along ocean's waves. The match was an intense back-and-forth game that turned tables more than Harry could count. Midoriya would keep the redhead at bay while the Red Riot would charge with quick punches that smashed right into the smaller boy's freckled cheek.

It was one hit after the other from each other, but it was only time that would tell whose Quirk would fail them first. Chips and cracks started to slip through Kirishima's skin and after one more finger, Midoriya would only be left with one hand left.

"You're one good friend, Midoriya!" the redhead roared loud enough for the cameras and microphones to pick up. It became obvious now that he was running on limited time. His Quirk was going to go under anytime soon if the softening of his skin was any sign,yet his eyes stayed as steely as it was from the start. "But I'm not going to lose to you! Especially not here!" He clenched his fist and held it against his chest. He shouted a battle cry into the air and dashed forward like a bull.

"I'm…!" Deku shrieked. The smaller boy crouched down and kept determined eyes locked on the charging male. " _Not going to lose here too_!"

Something incomprehensible slipped from his lips, and suddenly the veins in his left arm seemed to glow a bright red. Harry's jaw dropped and was tempted to wipe his glasses. The boy's arm lightened up to a gold shade, with flashing swirls around his arms and hands in a beautiful scarlet.

" _Rahhh!_ "

" _One for All!_ "

As quick as a blink and a bright flash the two boys' fists smashed into each other. There was a pause before a large plume of dust picked up in the ring, obscuring the cameras with rushing browns and whites.

" _The winner is…!_ " Present Mic leaned on the edge of his seat, counting the seconds for the dust to clear away.

The cloud lightened up, and an exhale escaped Harry's lips when he looked up at the victor.

Midoriya Izuku was the only one standing.

" _Midoriya Izuku from the Hero Course!_ "

The crowd's loud screams could be heard from the TV screen, and from the outside window. Harry straightened up from lacing his shoes and looked at the bright window. His worried expression softened and even a meager smile managed to appear on the curves of his lips. He pushed back his chair abruptly and stood up straight on his two feet.

 _Can you believe that this is your son...Mr. Midoriya…?_

* * *

There was an unexplainable ache in his head when Harry went to the open-air stadium again. The audience was practically vibrating by now, filled to the brim with excitement about seeing the impossibly powerful Todoroki Shoto.

The wizard stepped out of the tunnel and out into the light, squinting at the momentary change and glare against his glasses. On the other side of the rink, Shoto casually stepped in bounds.

" _You've been waiting for him…! Let me hear you say 'YEAH!'_ " the blond announcer rallied the crowd, and the stadium shook with the cheers that followed. " _It's the Ice Prince...Todoroki Shoto!_ "

With wobbly legs, Harry stepped in bounds.

" _Versus upcoming challenger...fresh from across the continents…! Potter Harry!_ "

Harry looked at the giant screen behind the red-and-white haired boy, staring at his blank, electronic face and the split screen of Todoroki. He peeled his eyes away from the screen and pressed his lips together in a grimace.

Heterochromia stared right back at him.

There was no doubt that he could stay out of the spotlight now, especially since Todoroki was already a fan favorite, but Harry wasn't partial to just quitting and becoming a human popsicle either. He had to finish this off as quick as humanly possible.

He had to think like Ron and Hermione now. Ron with his strategy, and Hermione with her wit.

Harry had the disadvantage in basic combat; that part was obvious enough. Todoroki's body was visibly toned through the P.E. uniform that the school supplied while Harry was scrawny and skinny at best. Getting up close to the boy was not an option unless he wanted to paint his face black and blue.

Harry, however, could bet that he was just a little bit faster. He wasn't as quick as he would be with his broom, but years of Harry Hunting and roaming the vast Hogwarts castle wasn't going to go to waste.

He could say that his reflexes are a little bit better, and Todoroki, from what he saw, was only limited to ice that could be stuck on surfaces. Spells had the advantage of the air.

He could do this.

" _Start!_ " Midnight and Present Mic chorused. An electric bell rang somewhere and the four podiums of fire increased in heat like a star before they shut off.

Immediately after those words left their mouths, a large trail of ice raced toward Harry.

Without missing a beat, Harry held his right hand out. If kept quiet enough, the microphones around the rink wouldn't pick up on his verbal spells.

" _Expluso!_ "

There was a whistling sound beside his ear. With widened green eyes and a gasp, the wizard twisted his head to the side just as a large _boom_ shook the rink and scattered ice crystals to every corner of the arena. The air instantly dropped in temperature and his breath was suddenly visible. Goosebumps rose on his arms despite the thermal sleeve and his hair stood on the back of his neck. Red and white eyebrows furrowed, but Todoroki immediately sent another blast of ice toward the wizard, building upon the remains that Harry left.

The Gryffindor leapt on the destroyed ice, a reckless plan building in his mind right as he was doing it. Just seconds before the next onslaught came at him, Harry sent a burst of magic to the ground and threw himself into the air with the momentum.

" _Ascendio!_ "

The ice shot out of the ground in spikes and ended on a slope, with the tip reaching just over fifteen meters, but Harry was already up at thirty. The wizard flipped midair, a trick he learned from years of Quidditch, and landed right on the highest point. Skidding his shoes down the slide of ice, he was going right for Todoroki. His wild, black hair fluttered around his eyes and temporarily blinded him.

" _Potter has the upper hand!_ " Present Mic called, bringing the reactions of the audience up to a high. The cheers distracted his for a second as the soundwaves pounded against his ear, melting into each other as if he was just back at Hogwarts. He hurriedly pushed that thought aside when Todoroki's own presence demanded it again.

Harry held an arm out toward the male and casted the spell with everything in his lungs.

" _Stupefy!_ "

A bright red light reflected against wide turquoise and grey eyes. Just as it was about to hit a clothed shoulder and brush against a pale cheek, Todoroki managed to twist his body just in time to evade the spell. The spell slammed harmlessly on the ground behind him.

" _What a Quirk!_ " Present Mic commented, eyes on the black-haired figure on the grounds below. "You rarely get energy-based Quirks!" He leaned against the back of his chair and gave it a little spin before landing his eyes on the stoic Aizawa. "It makes you wonder how Potter still manages to get around, doesn't it? He's almost as skinny as those obviously photoshopped models in the magazines…and even then he's pushing it..." Present Mic mumbled to the bandaged man, scratching his head with a single finger. It definitely was a feature that the teachers of U.A. had been mulling over for a while. Yet the mystery of Potter Harry never wavered, even if they threw out dozens of possibilities and guesses for his background, but that only gave them more questions to be answered.

They tried to dig deep into the five years he had been "missing," but other than some measly sightings of him at King's Cross Station in London, nothing else came up. Vlad King even suggested trying to investigate the train station for any villain activity of some sort, but none added up whatsoever.

"He's probably so skinny _because_ of his Quirk," Aizawa guessed in that dull tone of his, but his eyes never left the fight below. "Potter probably has to eat twice as many carbohydrates, proteins, and fats or more to utilize his Quirk the way he does and still have enough to get through the day."

"Ah! He probably burns it at quadruple the speed normal people do to shoot his energy out, right?!" The blond Pro then held his hands out like Harry and mimicked the wizard's pose, complete with sound effects.

"The word 'energy' is a vague and abstract term," Aizawa added tiredly, and there was no pitch in his voice. "Energy can mean anything; but in Potter's case it seems like a mix of potential energy and kinetic energy that he produces, manipulates, and forces out his body in a tangible form. His Quirk is strange, but it's not magic. Quirks are a science too." Two black irises rolled to the corner of Eraserheads's eyes and stared at Present Mic in wait.

The blond only pouted and mumbled something about, "Ruining all the fun," before he pulled his chair closer to his announcer's microphone again. The two let the discussion fade away before focusing on the fight below again.

"Dammit!" Harry cursed, skidding to a clear spot on the ice-user's right.

 _Close range?_ The half-and-half boy asked. He turned his body and sent another large stream of ice at Harry. Green eyes widened and the wizard immediately tried to backpedal. He lept into the air just as the ice followed, and his left leg immediately frosted over from being too slow.

" _Shit!_ "

The half-and-half boy raced toward Harry on a frozen path, and the wizard bit his tongue.

" _Expluso!_ " Harry immediately sent down at his feet. The ice beneath him exploded, but the Gryffindor screamed out in pain when the ice shards and the spell backfired horribly. He fell back with a shout.

 _I lost control and used too much power! I accidentally hit my feet!_ Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out once more and jumped toward a safer distance again. On the landing he accidentally put pressure on his foot and a burst of pain raced up the left side of his body.

"Gah!" he shouted, falling over and landing on his side. His elbows and side stung with the fall against the hard ground and he looked down at his leg. From foot to shin it was throbbing with obvious pain; from the ice shards, the freeze that it went through, and the brush of the spell. If he was _lucky_ , his bones were just fractured, but he was willing to bet it wouldn't be as nearly as pretty as that.

Craning his eyes up to the sun, he saw the taller teen let out a visible plume of his own breath from across the ring and white boots slowly stepped closer.

"You're injured, aren't you?" the ice-user asked in a low voice. They both glanced at the broken leg before meeting eyes once again. Harry was a deer in the headlights, frozen in the face of danger. "I'll finish this quickly then." His right sole planted firmly into the hardened ground and a burst of ice shot out from underneath his feet.

The audience withheld a breath and another tower of ice rushed in the fallen wizard's direction.

His neck snapped up and could only see shadowed ice and his own breath. It was seemingly over.

Then, his breath hitched.

"Get… _!_ " Two different colored eyes widened. " _Away from me_! _Bombarda Maxima!_ " Harry screamed into the open air.

The clear crystals exploded into the sky, raining them upon members in the crowd and scattered cool wind all around. People in the stadium screamed and Pros and students alike widened their eyes.

Harry jumped up on his good foot.

" _Molliare_!" he hissed down at his feet. He clapped his broken left leg with his wand arm, and a chill instantly spread over his skin. He slammed the foot back down on the ground and tested the waters. A small hiss still left his lips when some pain still registered, but the Cushioning Charm would have to do for now. It would soften the pressure that he'd subject his poor foot to.

Immediately, he turned toward Todoroki and black hair whipped with the movement.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

The scarlet light hit Todoroki square in the chest, and the boy was sent flying back. The ice that they left behind was pushed out of the way as the boy ran against all of them with his back as he soared. Right before his white boots was about to leave the edge of the white paint of the ring, another shield of ice shot out of his back and stopped him from crossing the boundaries.

The two were frozen in that position for a while, catching their breaths.

Harry's chest was heaving, rising and falling with every difficult breath that was struck with a stabbing cold.

"Bastard…!" Todoroki finally growled under his breath. His eyes glowed with a tamed fire.

"I get that a lot actually…" Harry's lips twitched with a painful smile, turning his head up. One single green eye shone past dark bangs and they were looking right at him.

The ice user was trembling.

 _I've got you_.

* * *

Todoroki Shoto was always the first person to class and the last person to leave.

That was just natural.

Even though Enji was barely home—out proving himself to be a strong hero to who-knows-who, Shoto didn't want to stay in his home any longer than he needed to, so he always woke up at the crack of dawn, left the house after his fifteen minute morning routine, and came back at sundown.

He told himself that the moment he became a hero and got his own source of income, he would move out immediately without looking back. But for now, he would just have to do with being an hour early to class and stay for several hours more using the training rooms.

It was boring, but that was his choice.

That was, until Potter Harry transferred.

Immediately after, Todoroki's precious alone time at school was broken into. Potter didn't interfere, nor did he ever attempt to talk to the boy. Some days he doubted that Potter even noticed him there, as he sat in the very back on the room, while Potter was up in the middle.

Yet, without fail, Potter would always arrive thirty minutes after Todoroki. Sometimes he would bring a beautiful, snowy white owl with him on his shoulders. To pass the time, the foreigner would softly talk to her in English while stroking her feathers.

When more people started to fill in the classroom, Potter would cross the room and open a window. He'd then tell his owl what time he would be out and where he would wait for her before he let her off for the day.

Koda, the shy animal lover and fifth to arrive in class, finally asked about the owl, because his love for animals overcame his timid nature. While Todoroki would never admit it, he was curious as well; after two hours of doing almost nothing, he tended to find things to put his interest to. Harry looked guarded, eyes turned from Koda to the owl before turning to the winged beauty with a fond smile and said:

"She was a gift, but she's one of my best friends now."

When Koda asked if he could give her a pet, Harry hesitated for a while before eventually nodding. Even though Koda's touch was light and soft, Potter remained hovering over the two, and told Koda where she liked to be pet and stroked.

Shoto watched this all, and remained watching them every day.

In a way, Todoroki sort of resented the boy without getting the whole story.

Owls were not pets, and they were not gifts. Especially since Potter's Quirk didn't revolve around animals; and even though the owl didn't look like she minded being where she was...

They deserved to be free.

The snowy owl should be where she belonged, and not tied down to some frivolous male.

He didn't know until later, but he reflected the bird on Potter's arm to his own bird in a cage: his mother.

* * *

Potter was strange, but he was strong.

Shoto saw the effects of that now.

The black-haired boy always managed to evade the hero-centered classes, avoided using his Quirk, and kept to himself. People only knew the information he was willing to give, and despite his slightly open nature, he was shrouded in a mystery that no one could break.

There was no mistake that that was Potter that he saw in the tunnel during the first round. The black-haired male managed to not only beat the speeds of him, Bakugou, and Midoriya, but also willingly chose a lower place. He even looked as fresh as a spring day, as if he had taken a stroll in the park and not gone through multiple obstacles and contestants to get to this spot across from the half-and-half boy right now. Todoroki was temped to scream, demand what his intentions were—was he so far above them that he would throw away first place like it was a charity?

Shoto didn't know his purpose for being here, he didn't know Potter's true power or his drive, but he did know one thing: Shoto promised to become Number One Hero. If Potter was an obstacle in his way, then Shoto would have to defeat him. He would do it all without using his cursed left side.

However, he was shaking.

His body shook with the tremors of the cold, his own breath coming out as uneven exhales and his internal temperature lowered drastically.

His own Quirk was betraying his body and he was reaching his human limits.

This could be solved with the use of his hot side, but he'd rather commit himself to frostbite and hypothermia before even thinking of bowing down to _that man_ again. The mere thought of his father made him sick to his stomach, but the sight of Endeavor sitting in the stands, watching like a hawk, made him furious.

He had to win this match.

 _Whatever it takes_.

Shoto shifted his stance, and already felt his body move slower from the side effect. His ice would move slower too, and his reflexes would be lowered from the constant shaking. If he wanted to win, he had to go all out with one last attack. The drawback would be horrible on his body with a high chance of biting him in the back, but so as long as he got Potter to fall first...it was a risk he'd have to take.

His boot planted firmly into the ground once more, and in an intake of breath, the wave of ice burst out once more.

" _This is it everyone!_ " Present Mic shouted into the microphone, his voice lifting with excitement. It pulled everyone to the corner of their seats and caused an uproar in the audience once more.

Potter Harry could only crane his neck up to the sky and drop his lower lip.

" _The Giant Ice...WALLLLLL!_ "

The pounding of Harry's eardrums was the only thing he could hear.

* * *

It came a lot slower than Harry remembered, but even then Harry couldn't help himself but stand still, frozen in amazement and fear. The ice crept closer and closer, ready to crash over him like a large ocean wave.

Then, the cold hit, and it pulled him back through a spiral to reality.

Harry gasped, breath sharp, and he smacked himself back to Earth to focus. The grating sound of a zipper opening ripped through the air.

In one swift move, he pulled out one of the twin's Explosive Enterprises. It was as large as a flower bouquet, and bundled tightly in brown parchment. If Harry remembered correctly, this was the largest one the twins had in their arsenal, shaped like a dragon and enough to bowel over a small army of men. If this didn't take down the ice wall, nothing would.

It was a horrible plan, he thought. One that Ron and Hermione would never even think of attempting, but Harry had never been the analytical or strategic type. He threw things like self-preservation and caution into the wind like paper planes.

His mind ran at a mile a minute, jumping from the spells he practiced, to the Quidditch moves he practiced, and then on the small book on Apparition that sat on the top of his trunk. It was crazy; he had never practiced it before, but he had no other choice. The one time he attempted to do Apparition would be naught, because it was with unconscious magical intent. He was successful back then, but he physically couldn't will it to happen _again_. Harry was running ragged on pure determination and stubbornness alone at this point. Todoroki would barrel right through him if he wasn't running on fumes.

Stupefy didn't work, nor did Expluso and Expelliarmus. Todoroki was strong; simple spells didn't work. Harry had to think of a way to get Todoroki out of commission as fast as possible without fail.

The ice wall came closer, and he forced all extra thoughts to a halt.

He couldn't waste anymore time, and Harry dashed forward.

When he was a mere ten meters away, Harry brought his leg up and kneed the firework, snapping it fresh down the middle to activate the magic. When it started to heat up and sparkle in his hand, he released the firework with the strongest flick of his arm and a shout that reverberated from the deepest part of his chest.

The two collided like a supernova.

The ice went up in a burst of red and yellow, scattering the air with mist and cold air that sent shivers down his spine. The impact was so powerful that artificial snow from the destroyed ice came down from the sky like a blizzard at the peak of winter. The faintest roar of a dragon echoed in his ear.

Harry ignored the concluding whizzes that popped up in the air, the blood-curdling shrieks, and the gasps of awe from the audience. His lungs burned with every breath from the biting cold, but he could go on. He continued to push his legs further, one foot stretching in front of the other, driving him deep into the white mist until he found his opponent.

 _There are three D's to Apparition you would have to focus on._

Todoroki stood at the end of the rink, with the trails of ice still beneath his soles still spiking up from the dirt.

 _Destination, Determination, and Deliberation._

His expression was one of pure shock, with eyes wide and every visible puff of breath coming out as short and fast. His body still carried shivers, and the tips of his fingers on his right side were turning a pale blue along with his lips.

Harry pulled forward in great leaps.

 _Destination, Determination, Deliberation_.

Arms closed around Todoroki's waist before the teen could get over the shock, and suddenly, his feet left the ground.

 _Destinationdeterminationdeliberation_.

Todoroki wasn't even allowed another thought. In a flash, everything went black. Every side of his body felt like he was being pushed against walls, he couldn't breathe, his chest was constricted and his head was pounded with the force of twenty mallets. It was one of the most uncomfortable feelings he had ever experienced in his life, leaving him aching for a breath and churned his insides like a shaken soda can.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, he was fifty meters up in the air.

" _Ahhh!"_ the Pro screamed when the mist below finally cleared. " _Where did they go?!_ " The two fighters were nowhere to be seen on the trashed ground below, completely empty of warmth and life. The fearful faces of Class 1-A could be seen as they panicked for their classmates and the crowd gasped and shouted in outcry.

" _Look up!"_ his partner suddenly yelled, slamming a hand on the table harshly. Aizawa took the microphone into his bandaged hand and leapt up, pushing the chair back so roughly that it fell over. He leaned against the desk to get as close to the large window as possible and craned his neck. Coal black eyes peered into a spot in the sky where two figures in blue and white were free falling. The blond gasped and followed Eraserhead's line of sight.

" _They're up in the air! How did they do that?!_ " Present Mic practically jumped onto the table, scattering wires and pencils and mugs of coffee with a crash. He pressed his face against the glass to spot the two plummeting specks in the atmosphere.

" _They might die from that height!_ " Aizawa shouted, unmistakable panic lacing the undertones of his voice. However, it was fruitless. They had no Pro on hand who could safely reach the two who were already making their quick descent back to Earth. " _Someone get Recovery Girl on hand! Now!_ "

Down below, All Might wondered how this escalated so fast while a shrieking owl hurriedly flapped her wings. A new guilt settled on his weakened heart, because as All Might, Number One Hero, could safely get the two down, but now he was just sickly Yagi Toshinori, and he couldn't do anything at all.

Several seats above, Endeavor's face betrayed no emotion.

* * *

The wind whistled in Harry's ears at a deafening volume and it ran through his hair like a thousand hands. The stilling cold of the air was replaced with the energetic cool of the wind that was untameable.

Harry turned his body midair once more and faced Todoroki, who was frozen in shock. With the ground nearing as their fall went on, Harry's hand reached out to grab Todoroki's own and they disappeared once more.

They popped in with a loud snapping sound. The two boys arrived several meters above the ground, saving them from a horrible fall that would've undoubtedly killed them. Harry acted quick and grabbed the back of the half-and-half boy's shirt, twisting and throwing the boy down to the ground with all his might.

The red-and-white haired male dropped with a large slam, scattering dust into the air like a cloud before Harry landed beside him. He rolled and tucked his body, falling before getting upright and skidding along the ground with the worn out soles of his shoes. The two were still as statues for a while, unmoving, and no one in the crowd would dare to make a sound during this tense moment. The sound of rubber soles running against pebbles and crunching against ice suddenly amplified in the arena.

On one side, Harry stood up on shaky legs.

On the opposite end, Todoroki rose.

The world was quiet, inhaling a bated breath and waiting for what came next. This far into the fight, no one knew who was going to be victor, and they all took sides. Everyone had someone they were hoping and depending on.

Harry's heart almost dropped to his chest, seeing his opponent still standing after all that effort, but Todoroki was ramrod straight. His bangs were covering his eyes and his head was casted down.

In a snap, he suddenly slouched, his body snapping closer, and then Todoroki lurched forward and promptly threw up on the ground.

 _Extreme nausea and even retching are to be expected during the first time you attempt to do Apparition._

Todoroki fell to the ground on his hands and knees and continued to heave the contents of his stomach out. His body visibly shook like a leaf now; not from the cold, but from the vomiting his body was forcing him to do. The viewers could only watch with shock and horror at the sight of the boy being sick. No one expected such a vulnerable reaction as that, not from someone who had Number Two as his father and one who could tower over them all with an ice wall. For a second, he almost looked his age; a simple sixteen-year-old boy, and not aspiring hero.

Harry remained standing, but couldn't force his legs to move even when Todoroki was a mere three meters from the white line. He thought he would have this victory; there was no way Todoroki would be able to get up after that.

He looked forward, feeling sorry for what he had done, but that thought was wiped when noticed that there was a bloody handprint on Todoroki's back. Instant confusion fell over him like a douse of cold water. He didn't remember the taller teen having that before, and Harry hated to think that he was just that bad at observation. The blood was still fresh: a bright, glossy, and deep red that stood out even against the dark blue fabric of their uniforms.

His eyesight suddenly blurred over without having to take off his glasses and he felt a clammy cold enter his body from the inside out. It wasn't the cold that surrounded them, not one that was painful like knives in his skin or nipped mercilessly at his nose, but one that was violent, made him feel ill.

Harry wanted to feel worry—panic, but there was no more energy left in his body for to feel anything but the sudden urge to close his eyes and sleep. The ring was spinning, and the ground beneath him was moving in waves.

Right before Harry hit the ground he had looked at his noticeably warm and wet fingers and realized—a large part of his palm was missing.

 _He had splinched_.

* * *

Potter Harry fell to the ground with a muffled thud, his body crumpling like a puppet with snipped strings. The dust picked up and swirled around him. Almost every head instantly snapped toward him, then to Todoroki a beat later.

Todoroki let out deep, painful-sounding coughs. He was curled in on himself with one hand around his stomach and his hand was pressed over his mouth to soften the sounds. The hard coughs ceased seconds later, just before he rolled over, unconscious.

The arena was still silent, instantly trying to process what had happened and what was currently going on.

Midnight walked up with a conflicted look on her face, eyes turning from one boy to another with knitted eyebrows and a frown on her pretty face. She stepped closer and stopped with a hand on her hip.

"The ultimate decision is your choice," Cementoss said, but his voice shook softly. The battle had gotten out of hand, and he was the one assigned to stop fights from going too far. Everything happened too fast and it frustrated him that he couldn't do anything. Potter Harry pulled tricks that no one expected and he fitted it all in a five minute timespan.

After a lengthy pause, the R-Rated Hero cracked her whip in Todoroki's direction.

"Potter Harry was the first to be unable to continue! Todoroki Shoto moves to the next round!"

The cheers in the audience was enough to make anyone go deaf.


	13. Chapter Twelve

When he finally woke up, the windows were rattling.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was in the nurse's room—head pounding and concussion or not, but he was in the hospital wing enough times to recognize white sheets and the smell of antiseptic. A quiet groan left his lips and pushed his aching skull further into the pillows.

His irises grew and shrank with the bright white light that streamed out of the drapeless glass. His eyelids scrunched up when the pain in his head increased tenfold.

In the back of his mind he could hear tiny pops of explosions go off outside—and that set off a trigger of building blocks in his head.

The sports festival.

He forced his green eyes open, ignoring how his lids felt like they were glued together.

Immediately he set his blurry sights on the small nurse's back, and his owl, who sat above the work desk. He and Hedwig made eye contact and his owl wasted no time screeching before swooping in close.

"Hedwig!" Harry cried at the hysterical mass of white feathers and talons. He paused and winced for a second at the sound of his hoarse voice and the feel of sandpaper down his throat. She didn't rest though, and probably looked like she wanted to bat him rightfully over the head with a wing. His attention had to leap over his owl for a second, and it landed on his glasses at the bedside table. An arm left the thin covers and reached for his cool, metal frames.

"Potter-kun," Recovery Girl said. "How are you feeling?"

"Sports…" He inwardly flinched once more at the horrible sound of his voice. "The sports festival," he repeated himself. He turned his eyes to the small senior as she slowly shuffled to his side with a stethoscope around her neck. He attempted to sit up, and immediately realized his mistake. Every muscle in his body protested and his head throbbed twice as hard with the action.

"Boys," she muttered almost tiredly. "You can focus on your own health and not the sports festival for just one second, Potter-kun."

"But…" He turned his eyes from side to side, trying to spot that familiar split shade that was nowhere to be found. "Todoroki—"

"Woke up just five minutes before you did," she gently said, sticking the cool metal of the stethoscope on his chest. "He didn't come out of it as bad as you did."

"Who...Who won the round?" The words in Harry's mouth was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. A chill entered his body: if Todoroki woke up not long before Harry that meant Harry had done a number on the poor boy.

"...Todoroki did," she eventually answered, almost hesitantly, as if she was expecting an extreme reaction from him, maybe one that would come from an extreme teen who wanted no win no matter what. When he showed no signs of one, she took the notes that she jotted down and walked away to grab a glass of water.

She handed him the cool glass and he greedily gulped it up in one large sip almost mindlessly. He turned to Hedwig again and tilted the glass as if ask her if she was thirsty, but she only nudged the top of her head against his chin and cheek.

"Is Todoroki okay...?"

It had been a while before he spoke, his tone low and soft like the wind on a summer evening. The guilt of what he did earlier to Todoroki crept up on him slowly. He didn't even know what he was thinking at the time and mindlessly pulled some nasty tricks on the split-haired boy that he wouldn't even hope to befall on another wizard. The news of the other teen's victory was a bitter pill, but Harry took it better than he thought he would. Harry knew how competitive he could get, but it was true that he came into the school festival not expecting to win in the first place. He didn't come here to lose, but he didn't come here to win either.

"He's perfectly fine," Recovery Girl said, keeping the doctor-patient confidentiality, and his chest felt lighter that Todoroki wasn't seriously hurt, "but you should be more worried about yourself!" The little old lady made it to a side of the bed and started to check his vitals. "Your leg and concussion were fixed first—but it would've been a lot better if you didn't put so much pressure on it…!" She even asked him how he managed to do all that running on that leg, but Harry could only shrug helplessly, and she went on to mutter about how his pain tolerance, "must be as high as that Yagi's…"

"Your hand was a little tricky," she continued next. "It was an extremely deep cut and Todoroki-kun's ice was very jagged, so it wasn't neat either…I fixed up what I could, but I still had to give you stitches, so I suggest you take it easy on that hand from now on. You fainted due to blood loss, but you didn't need a blood transfusion, so this is all good news."

He lifted up his bandaged-swathed hand and lightly pressed the soft part of his palm underneath his thumb and forefinger for the braided feeling of his skin. He stared blankly, his mind running so fast that he couldn't latch on a single coherent thought before realizing to himself:

 _They thought I had cut my hand on one of Todoroki's ice?_ It was certainly a better explanation that he could've come up with, one where he had to explain where one of his body parts suddenly decided not to be with the rest of him anymore.

"But Recovery Girl…" Harry said, snapping his head up to meet the eyes of the short senior, "I thought your Quirk—"

"Heals people, yes," she said gently, "but my Quirk speeds up the process of one's healing. You were too worn out for your body to be able to heal you any further."

"Oh…" He thought that she was just as magical as Madam Pomfrey, but this just brought him back to reality. Quirks were a human condition, and because of that they were imperfect too.

He'd be sure to remind himself of that often.

* * *

After checking his health and making sure that he could walk on his own two feet, he was dismissed and allowed to go watch the rest of the matches. From the explosion sounds that went on outside, he betted that it was Iida vs. Bakugou then, but the noses had since quieted, meaning that they had moved on to Tokoyami vs. Ashido.

He made it down the hallways at an easy pace, almost as if to test to see if he could still put one foot in front of the other. Hedwig usually sat on his shoulder when they walked, but either she was really upset with him, or really worried that he was going to fall over in the next two seconds that she took the extra time and energy gliding down the hall and kept a careful, critical eye on him. He circled around the arena languidly, for he was in no rush, a feeling that had become strange. Between Mr. Midoriya's death, training, school, and being in the actual sports festival, he couldn't remember the last time he took time to himself.

Maybe he could go to the park after this like he did in England, but he had no friends to bring, and he doubted that Hedwig would appreciate playing fetch with him.

However, before another depressing thought could stroll into his mind, the faintest sound of sniffling reached his ears. He paused, startled, and realized:

Someone was crying.

He could just pretend that he didn't hear it and continue walking, but it had never been a part of him to just ignore what was in front of him, no matter how exasperated it made the teachers. It made no sense to stop now.

He looked up at the flying, white owl above him and she inclined a head to say that she heard it too. Harry held a finger to his lips and turned his eyes back to the hallway. It was completely empty, and it would've been completely silent if it weren't for the noise that penetrated the glass windows from the battle below.

His footsteps became silent, and he glided like a ghost around corners and down turns until the sound became louder and louder.

It wasn't until he reached an unoccupied, open room that he found it. Gently, he pushed the door open and the crying hitched.

He stepped in sheepishly, turning his head to the small figure in the fetal position in the corner of the room, but that short guilt was replaced with surprise for a quick second when he realized who it was.

Black hair in a large ponytail, fair skin, and red-rimmed eyes. It was Yaoyorozu, his class representative.

The two stared at each other for a while, both like deers in the headlights, but then Hedwig's feathers fluttered in the back of his mind and Harry snapped out of it.

He lowered himself to as squat as gently as he could, and kept his green eyes locked with black ones.

"I'm sorry for intruding…!" He held his hands up in an innocent, surrender pose. "But I heard crying from the hall and…" He pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows. "Are you alright?" he eventually asked.

Her breath hitched and she quickly straightened up. It startled Harry when she replied with a loud, "Yes!" before she rubbed her tears off with the back of her arm.

He probably knew Yaoyorozu as well as he knew the rest of his classmates. As in, not at all. But Yaoyorozu took her responsibility as class president wholeheartedly, and reached out to Harry more often than once to get him to join the class group chat or to create a copy of one of the worksheets he had missed.

He'd kick himself if he just left everything as it was.

Harry was never an expert on emotions, and he was incredibly rash and almost ignorant himself. His fifth year was spent with nothing but outbursts and conflicts, so many that he was willing to bet that he drove Hermione and Ron up walls trying to keep up with his constantly shifting moods. But he couldn't leave Hermione alone when she was sad, and he didn't leave Ginny alone when she was taken in her first year, so he couldn't just leave Yaoyorozu alone now.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. "I mean...you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but you look like you...needed some company right now." His lips fell into a thin line, but he mustered up a non threatening smile anyway.

"I—" She stopped suddenly and her chest raised with a large inhale. Her eyes were becoming shinier as a new wave of tears started to come. Her face colored into a rosy pink with a shame. Yaoyorozu let out a small hiccup and she raised a fist up to her face again to catch the salt water.

"My performance out there was pathetic…!" she finally gasped out in a voice that shook with the tremors of her body. Green eyes widened and Harry's jaw dropped as he was taken back. "Everyone seems to do so well…! I'm a recommended student, yet somehow...I'm falling behind!" She lowered her head again and sniffled as her bangs curtained her face from Harry's view.

It was easy to see the roots of self-esteem withering before his eyes. Even to someone like Harry, who could barely be counted as a member of Class 1-A, could see that Yaoyorozu usually carried herself high and had confidence in herself. But that just made it easier for her to fall. Harry never was a self-assured person, but he had never been placed in a high pedestal to have such a crash before. Someone as nervous as Neville had always been at the very bottom of confidence, so he grappled to get to the top.

"I-I'm sorry," she eventually said, laughing without humor even though her features were still warped with sadness. The exposed skin of her forearm sparkled for a second before a crisp, new handkerchief popped out. She snatched it out of the air without a second glance and quickly used it to wipe the tears from her face. "I'm rambling, aren't I? You only came here to ask me how I was, and I'm just piling all of this on you…"

He pushed aside her worries with a gentle look.

"Losing isn't very fun, is it?" he could only say with a shy smile, a bit lamely, as he lowered himself to the ground to sit. "It's kind of infuriating…" He raised a hand to flatten his bangs over his pale forehead out of nervousness. "But what should matter is the fight after this one—and the one after that. You'll have more chances to win," he reasoned.

The class representative looked at him with a strange expression on her face, and Harry felt a bit silly after a long pause.

"I kind of just lost too—to Todoroki, so maybe I'm not the best person to talk to you right now." He stopped to chuckle at himself. "But...I still think you can be a good Hero, even after this loss, Yaoyorozu-chan."

Harry had a gift of speaking earnestly and sincerely. He may have not been dastardly charming like Cedric, or smooth and likeable, but Harry always spoke from the heart. That was not a lie. It was difficult for people to listen and not feel a closeness with the Boy-Who-Lived, who pulled people toward him with a genuine attraction. Dumbledore's Army had bloomed because of this.

"You're a recommended student too, Potter-san," the brunette girl said, voice still uneasy with the shaking of sobs. "And you have a nice Quirk…" She paused for a while and lowered her eyes to the tiled floor. The volume dipped and in the pitch of the sun's glare through the open windows the faintest of pink can still be seen on her face. "If you're anything like you are right now…. You're destined to be a great Hero."

"But I don't think that matters," Harry said, shaking his head slightly. There was a pause before he talked again; his thoughts drifting in and out of the reality he was in now. "Not really... People give me more credit than I deserve for being recommended, but I didn't do anything special. You can have a good Quirk—or none at all...and I still think you can do great things." His voice drifted off as a while, and his green eyes started to stare off at something unknown. "Even in a world like this...one with Quirks…" — _and magic_ — "where people can create miracles every day…. We're still human." He finally turned those intense eyes back on Yaoyorozu and her breath hitched from the eye contact. "So we make mistakes, but we can also improve every day.

"You're a genius, Yaoyorozu-chan, so you probably study and work hard every day—but the smartest girl I know, my best friend, said that there are more important things than books and studying: _believing in yourself_."

Harry's voice reached Yaoyorozu's ears like a wind, and the seconds pulled away before she finally reacted. Her breath hitched, and the color on her cheeks darkened into a rose. She pressed her lips together into a firm line as the clenching in her chest and her throat became tighter like an iron grasp. She was sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest and had her arms bound tightly over her knees. Her soft hands were gripping onto her bare elbows in a secure hold.

"Believing in myself…" she replied almost bitterly in a voice that was nothing more than a whisper. "Everyone around me is striving to commit themselves wholeheartedly to become the best Hero...but I try my best...and I try and try...and I'm still at this level…!" She clapped a hand over her mouth when she choked out another sob. She turned away from Harry so he couldn't see the fresh tears.

The pained look in her face almost made Harry look away, but instead the boy silently reached behind his back and conjured up a new handkerchief.

"That's true, but people advance and grow at different speeds. You can't constantly compare yourself to someone else. You have to look at what's in front of you. You can think of it this way…" Harry held out the new cloth to the brunette girl with a large smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "All great Heroes had to be at your level at one point in time. If they can do it...why can't you?"

With the look on Yaoyorozu's face, one would've thought that Harry made a miracle.

* * *

When Harry woke up tired and disoriented—more than normal. Recovery Girl was quick to say that it was just a side effect of using her Quirk and they thought that Harry to sleep until noon. If Harry's Quirk worked the way that they suspected it to, then being sleepy was more than expected. Even as he knew this, it still frustrated him to no end that he missed the rest of round two and he had to get another crash course from Ojiro.

Iida ran circles around Bakugou with his speed, but the boy wasn't just a tower of cards or a trail of dominos that someone could crash down. The boy was stubbornly able to withstand almost every hit that the speed-packed student representative was able to throw at him with nothing more than a couple of bruises and an angry shout to show. Iida eventually tired himself out from straining his engines and Bakugou was able to overpower him.

Tokoyami had a harder time with Ashido. He truly worked like the dark night he represented while Ashido was an inexhaustible ball of hot gas, always bursting with excitement. They were on an uneven ground for a while, as he had to stick with defense and she struck with a hardhanded offence. Dark Shadow didn't work so well against Ashido's acid, but Tokoyami was admittedly more strategic than the fun-loving girl. He eventually managed to outsmart her and got her to slip up on her own acid, giving him time to ram Dark Shadow into the pink girl and knocked her out of bounds.

Harry barely managed to make it to the stands by the start of the third round, and by then the people were already stomping their feet and cheering at the top of their lungs as two teenagers emerged from opposite sides.

" _Midoriya!_ " Present Mic shouted, raising his right arm toward the green-haired boy in the ring below. " _Versus…Todoroki!_ " The audience rose in volume.

"There you are!" Kaminari turned around in his seat and beamed at the black-haired wizard. "You seem to disappear every time you're not needed!"

Beside him, Kirishima turned around and sent out a small, "Hey!" with an cheeksplitting smile. "Potter!" he called out. "That was one hell of a fight down there! We were rooting for you!" He held out a fist that Harry hesitantly knocked with his own before sitting in the empty seat right next to Ojiro.

"Yeah!" Kaminari said, yellow eyes following the wizard's form as he sat down. "Shame you lost though!"

"I do always seem to be late, huh…" Harry mused, almost to himself when he realized how many battles he had missed. Hedwig swooped out of the open doors at that instance. She circled around Class 1-A's seats before diving down and fluttered gracefully onto Harry's shoulder. The boy paid her no mind, but for an absent minded pat along her feathers. The snowy white owl hooted along his ear as if to confirm what Harry said.

"Talk about extreme!" Sero spoke up. "We were freezing even up here! I can't even imagine how cold it was down there! Luckily you were smart enough to bring a thermal sleeve…" Many pairs of eyes landed on Harry's covered arms, which he yanked from their sight out of nervousness.

"Sero-kun," Harry tried to say, "sorry about the fight—"

The taped-teen easily waved away Harry's worries before he could even finish.

"Naw!" he said. "I told you don't worry about it—and you won fair and square!" Sero showed Harry a huge smile that revealed perfect rows of white teeth. "And no offense, but you look like you drew the short straw—"

" _Start!_ " Present Mic shrieked. Sero was cut off in an instant. The boy couldn't physically get a word out the moment the familiar sound of creeping ice seemed to whisper in Harry's ear. Then the ice exploded.

The Gryffindor cried out in surprise, bringing one arm up to shield his face from flying chunks of ice as a shrieking Hedwig burrowed closer to his chest. Freezing wind nearly blew them away, sending a numbing feeling of needle pin pricks into nearly every pore. Class 1-A was off their seats and leaning against the railings in an instant to get a closer look at the two teens.

"Midoriya broke one of his fingers already!" someone cried out.

"What?" Harry gasped out, jumping up on his two feet. He leaned against the seat in front of him and squinted his eyes from beyond circle frames. "Where?!"

"Look!" Kaminari pointed out. "His fingers are still bandaged from his fight with Kirishima, but he's shaking!"

True enough, Midoriya stood his ground on the ring below, but even from where Harry sat he was able to see the remains of ripped bandages and fingers so bruised that they were swollen to two extra sizes and were purple and black.

"Man...Midoriya must be crazy…" someone above Harry commented.

"But Todoroki isn't looking so good either…" Ojiro slowly said. He turned to the startled wizard and gave him an expression he couldn't read. "Harry did quite a number of him too."

"I—" The words halted in Harry's throat when he felt more eyes fall on his form. Before Harry could think about explaining himself, another gale shot through the arena, dropping the temperature like flowers wilting in the winter.

"His arm!" Burst Harry out of his thoughts before another thought could enter his brain. A gasp left the Gryffindor's lips when he looked down at the arena.

The sleeve on Midoriya's shirt was completely destroyed, showing the world his bruised and broken arm that was purple from elbow to fingers.

"Deku!" Uraraka cried out in worry.

Todoroki skid across the rink, but a wall out ice shot of behind him and blocked him from leaving the rink.

"Damn, things are not looking good for Midoriya right now!" Kirishima shook his head.

"But…" Harry muttered under his breath, eyes glued on the fight below.

 _Todoroki is desperate too_.

The ice he had used against Harry were like flowers in bloom. Controlled, quick, reined. Todoroki had full mastery over the ice that Harry had faced, but it was clear that the ice right now was as untamable as a dragon. The ice transitioned from wide and thin, jagged and flat like an ice rink. It was clear that even Recovery Girl couldn't fix the effects of Harry's magic.

Midoriya said something to Todoroki that they couldn't hear from up above, and that set something off in the duel-colored boy. Heterochromatic eyes widened before Todoroki charged like a tiger.

The green-haired boy's arm glowed with gold and scarlet before he dived once more, and landed a solid punch right into the bi-colored boy's stomach.

A chorus of, "Ooh!" rang across the crowd as they sympathetically winced in pain, followed right by muttering.

 _That doesn't look very pleasant_ , Harry couldn't help but think, remembering all of the broken ice that still lingered on the stands.

" _A direct hit!_ " Present Mic called out. " _Now we're getting action!_ "

Todoroki flew across the rink, but skidded along the ground and stopped before he could exit the boundaries. Cries from mixed reactions left everyone's lips the second Todoroki got back up on his two feet.

Harry watched as the two maneuvered around each other, circling like injured wolves, both worn out and beaten down, but too prideful and stubborn to quit.

The audience watched with a bated breath as they charged.

* * *

When eight-year-old Harry Potter learned about the existence of Mr. Midoriya's son he was jealous.

He couldn't help but feel envious of the mystery boy who was lucky enough to be born from Mr. Midoriya, the only man who he looked up to as family. With no face and only a name to go by, his imagination wandered.

This Izuku Midoriya probably had two loving parents, clothes that weren't hand-me-downs, features that he could truly call Mr. Midoryia's, and much more that Harry didn't have.

Maybe Izuku was even well-liked in school, had lots of friends, was encouraged to do as best as he could.

Maybe...the boy was even blessed to have a Quirk.

Yet as Harry watched the unmatched battle that went on below, he couldn't help but think about how silly he was being as a child. Those features might have all been true: the parents, the clothes, the popularity, and even the Quirk, but Izuku couldn't help being born to Mr. Midoriya, nor could he help having a Quirk; just like Harry couldn't help being born to James and Lily Potter, and he couldn't help but be a wizard.

There was also something else that Harry couldn't deny: Mr. Midoriya might have been Izuku's biological father, but he was in Harry's life. Mr. Midoriya never made any visits back to Japan in all the years that he had known him, and from what he told Harry, he never made much contact with Izuku as the boy grew up either. That was something that Izuku didn't have, and one that Harry couldn't give back no matter how much he wanted to or how much he tried: Mr. Midoriya had been more of a father to Harry than he was to Izuku.

 _Yeah_ , a thirteen-year-old Harry seemed to repeat back to him, sitting on a hill overlooking the Great Lake, _Mr. Midoriya is right here_. His tone was soft back then, not exactly morose, but not heavy either. The worst hadn't come yet.

Harry thought a lot about Mr. Midoriya during his third year, as he balanced between the escape of Sirius Black, and the man's apparent betrayal against his parents. But he never made it a point to visit the man, not when he had blown up Aunt Marge and ran off, and not when Sirius—now innocent in Harry's eyes and brighter than what the preteen had ever expected, jumped with enthusiasm at the thought of being Harry's godfather.

If someone told Harry then that he was going to chase this alluded Izuku across seas after the death of Mr. Midoriya, he'd say it was impossible. Mr. Midoriya was just a muggle, and muggles didn't get wrapped up in Harry's other life, nor in wizards' schemes. The man was perfectly safe. No—if someone told him that he'd be admitted to U.A. along the way, one of the best hero schools in the world, and on track to be a Pro, he'd tell them that they were crazy—completely out of their mind.

Eight-year-old Harry would get upset with them for trying to fill a poor, Quirkless boy's head with false hopes of being a Pro Hero. He was young, but he wasn't stupid.

Thirteen-year-old Harry wouldn't even bother paying attention to that. He was too deep into the Wizarding World to even have the thought of being a Pro drift into his mind. To the him back then the two were like night and day.

But fifteen-year-old Harry, bitter and angry under the Voldemort's influence on his emotions and dreams, would say differently.

He'd tell them that heroes didn't exist.

Not after his parents' death, not after Cedric's death, not when people ridiculed a child for being born without a Quirk—not in his world.

If they couldn't save Harry's precious people, stop him from slipping under the cracks, then who can they save? Who were they going to save?

They were people to regulated the peace and stopped crime, yes, but they were no heroes.

There were no such thing as heroes.

 _But even if there were,_ the fifteen-year-old turned around with cold green eyes, _I wouldn't be one_.

But as he sat here now, listening to Izuku's hoarse shouts toward the duel-haired boy, yelling with such enthusiasm and passion about being Number One and fighting with such desperation—he couldn't help but believe him. As Izuku landed a charged punch right into the taller teen, sending him sailing across the rink, Harry managed to catch a glimpse of the green-haired boy's face.

Loving parents or not.

Bullied or not.

Quirk or not.

Izuku Midoriya, in that moment in time, looked like he was suffering the most of all.

Harry might not know what a Hero is, but—

" _It's...your power, isn't it?!_ "

Izuku does, doesn't he?

The two boys charged and met in the middle.

The Boy Who Lived watched as the world exploded.

* * *

"He's in no state for visitors," Recovery Girl immediately said in a no-nonsense tone the second Midoriya's friends, a small group of Iida, Uraraka, Mineta, and Tsuyu, burst through the door.

"Hey guys…" His voice rolls into the conversation, stopping everyone in their tracks as they focus on that gravelly, weak voice. He's propped up in the bed, shirtless with bandages wrapped so tightly around his arms and torso it was like Recovery Girl was attempting to straitjacket him to prevent Midoriya from injuring himself further. His left pant leg was trimmed and cut to reveal purple and black skin, completely beaten and battered under the confines of a temporary leg brace. Despite him bad he looked, his green eyes rolled to the side and he pushed himself to talk to his friends. "Shouldn't you be watching the matches?"

"The stage was far too damaged; they're taking a quick break to repair it now," Iida said, gesturing to the arena.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life, Midoriya," Mineta said in a shaky voice and wobbly knees, pointing a finger. "The Pros are never going to want a sidekick that just injures themsel—" The loud sound of smacking skin slaps the rest of the words right out of his mouth.

Tsuyu retracted her tongue without flinching. "Now you're just rubbing salt into his wounds," the honest girl said. "Now's not a good time."

"Hey, I'm just speaking the truth!" the short boy tried to defend.

"You're much too noisy!" Recovery Girl cut in holding her arms out as she tried to usher the kids out of the room. "I know you're worried, but—" She's cut off by the sound of loud footsteps slamming down on tiles and the sound of double doors opening from down the hallway.

The doors of the makeshift nurse's office finally slam open and that nest of messy, black hair couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's but Harry's. He was out of breath, chest rising and falling, but his eyes were wide. He whipped his head around until those green irises landed on the bedridden figure. "Midoriya, I—!"

"Potter!" the senior was quick to chastise. Everyone missed the way Midoriya's eyes widened from being called out by a student that he barely interacted with. "There is no running in the halls, and just because I just healed you, does not mean that you're fit to doing strenuous activity!"

"Sorry…!" Harry quickly blurted out, eyes falling on the short female. "I just—It's just that…" Green eyes scan the room before they fall on Izuku again, still struck like a deer in the headlights. "I wanted to talk to Izuku Midoriya."

"I'm sorry, Potter, but it will have to wait," Recovery Girl said, ignoring the looks on everyone. "You're all going to have to wait." Her eyes land on all of the teens huddling together. "I ought to focus on his surgery now—"

"Surgery?!" everyone shouted in an outcry.

"Come on now," the senior citizen blocked out the rest of their cries of worry and continued to usher everyone out. "Get out of here."

"But—!"

"Surgery is a big deal, isn't it!?"

Harry was backed out of the room without a peep leaving his lips, but the knit of his eyebrows and the frown on his face showed everyone what he was feeling. Before the door shut in his face, two green eyes met; one worried, and the other surprised.

* * *

Izuku watched as All Might walked down the hallway, leaving words of encouragement and advice in his wake, but the green-haired boy could only stay silent as he tried to prevent tears from running down his face. Even though his eyes burned and his lips trembled, his heart couldn't feel any lighter from the memory of All Might telling him that he was going to do great things. His head churned with thoughts that moved at a mile a minute, tracing patterns and coming up with schemes for this "new way" to use One for All. He was about to fall into another one of his muttering spells when the sound of wings flapping urged him to tilt his head up.

A snowy white owl swooped down until she landed on his shoulder. She was large in size, but light in weight, barely putting any pressure on Izuku's bones. The boy couldn't help but let a gasp of awe escape his lips at the sight of the bird, one with pure white feathers that were well taken care of, and eyes that were one of the deepest colors of amber that he had ever seen.

Hedwig tilted her head at his staring, and hooted softly, ruffling up her feathers to break the intense eye contact he held on her.

But then that image of grace and beauty was broken when the owl snatched his gym shirt, the one slung over his shoulders, and flew off with it. A cry left Midoriya's voice, and he broke off into a slow run after her down the hallways. She flew at a languidly slow pace, just barely beating him and his limp, still fresh from his injuries.

She swooped under an overhang opening up to the sky, and Izuku skid his uneven steps to stop and squint the sudden bright light that blanketed his eyes. The whiteness settled, and Izuku widened his eyes when he realized that he wasn't alone. Potter Harry sat on the railing overlooking the fight happening below, with his right knee pulled up to his chest and his left leg left to dangle. His eyes were trained on the small phone he held in his hand, and didn't even notice Midoriya standing there. Potter only tilted his head up when Hedwig dangled the shirt in front of his face.

Emerald green eyes, a color much brighter than Izuku's own seaweed green, looked up and were immediately taken aback.

"A shirt…?" Harry lifted his hand up to gently take the shirt from the bird's beak. "Hedwig, did you steal this?"

"Um…" Izuku finally decided to make his presence known and hesitantly stepped up. "That's mine…" He lifted up a scarred hand.

A soft gasp left Potter's mouth and the taller teen instantly scrambled himself to a standing, upright position.

"Midoriya-kun!" the foreign boy exclaimed, almost in a breath that sounded like Potter couldn't believe what was in front of him. Like Midoriya was magic, and fairy tales, and wizards. The boy then turned to the owl fluttering down to sit on the railing. "Hedwig!" he chastised in English, with knit eyebrows, and in a serious voice. "That wasn't very nice!"

The snowy owl, Hedwig, tucked her head underneath her wing and preened her feathers in a feigned nonchalance at her owner's scolding. Only after Potter was done did she lift up her head and hooted at him, before turning those large, golden eyes to Midoriya.

Potter sighed, defeated, before turning to Izuku with a wobbly, forced smile. He held the shirt out to the All for One user in one stiff motion.

"I'm sorry about that," Potter eventually said, voice sincere. "She doesn't usually do that."

Midoriya gently took his shirt back and sent back his own wary, hesitant smile.

He was under surgery, and All Might whisked him away right after that, but he would be lying if he said that Potter's outburst didn't startle him. The two rarely interacted, so it was almost heart-stopping and mind-boggling when Potter burst into the room, almost hysterically, saying that he wanted to talk to _him_ of all people.

"It's alright…" Izuku replied after a pregnant pause in a voice that just above a whisper. He took the shirt back in is free hand and stared down at the fabric between his fingers. He looked up and green eyes met green. "Your owl probably knew that you wanted to say something to me…?" The words slipped from his lips out of pure curiosity before he could even turn it into a murmur or a thought.

It would also be a lie if Midoriya said that he wasn't nervous now.

He didn't know how much more that he could take: from Kaa-chan's outburst, to Todoroki's talk. If Potter Harry had another declaration of war for him, Izuku would have to start sleeping with his eyes open.

"Ahh…" Potter Harry's eyes flashed with emotions that he couldn't understand, skipping fields of happiness, nervousness, and then grief, sadness. Potter shook his head so hard that waves of black hair shook with him. "I can talk to you later, if you want. What I did earlier was kinda selfish of me…" When Izuku only offered a confused look, he continued. "You just got out of surgery…" He shook his head again. "I shouldn't have said that earlier."

It was Izuku's turn to shake his head, his own messy curls bouncing with the movement. Some of the stress on his shoulders eased up a bit. If Potter was here for a declaration of war, at least he was being considerate. "I'm fine! Thank you for worrying though…! I would've just gone down to watch the rest of the matches anyway, so...I can talk." A gasped slipped through his lips in the next second and his eyes widened. "Ah!" He shook his head wildly and waved his free hand. "Only if you want to talk! You might've changed your mind!"

Those emeralds...suddenly looked so sad. Potter stood there for a while, pressing his lips together into an uneasy frown and turning his eyes down to the ground. After what seemed like hours, Potter let out a deep sigh and turned those eyes back to Izuku again.

"Midoriya Izuku…" he eventually said, voice thick. "I came to Japan...to see you."

Out of all the possibilities, out of every option for conversation choices, any word that might've been shared between the the two of them, Izuku would've never expected for those to be any one of them.

Those words confused him more than they startled him, but he still had to swallow the saliva that built up in his throat.

"M-Me…?" Izuku finally croaked out in disbelief. "But I—How...Why now?" he eventually asked. His thoughts moved too fast in his brain for a reasonable line of thought. Those were the only words that he was able to hold onto and push out of his mouth.

Potter looked sheepish then, almost ashamed of himself.

"The teachers call everyone up by their student numbers...remember…? You're student #18…if I had known that your last name was Midoriya...I would've...I—" The words in his throat tripped over each other and he choked, coming to a halt. He gulped, and in that moment in time, Izuku could've sworn that he was looking at a different person.

Up close he could see the bags under Potter's eyes, the wariness in his face and lines. His hair was wilder than a bird's nest and his skin was almost an unhealthy pale shade.

"Sorry…" Potter finally rasped out, voice hoarse, almost as if tears were coming, "your dad...is dead."

If Izuku looked back on that moment now, he would've remembered how the weight of those words didn't reach him until much later.

As of right now, those words were like paper: weightless, only a vehicle for sketches and drafts. Not set in stone.

There was no doubt in Izuku's head at that moment that those words were nothing but a prank.

His dad, Midoriya Hisashi, was a faraway dream to him. He was present in Izuku's life back when his age could still be counted on one hand, but after that it was nothing but distant calls that grew sparser and sparser until he came home from school one day to his mother tearfully stating that they were moving to Musutafu.

Gone came the late calls, the timezoned video messages, and the belated birthday gifts. Though truthfully, Izuku had to admit that he hadn't thought of his father in a while. When he was younger, between balancing Kacchan's bullying at school, bemoaning his own Quirklessness, and watching All Might videos on the computer, he decided that his mom was all the sunshine he needed. With the arrival of One for All, his father was a distant memory tucked into the back of his mind.

"Wha... _what_?" Was the only thing that he managed to rasp out.

Potter looked conflicted then, before twisting his face into grimace.

"I..um...I'm an orphan," the teen explained, his voice coming out in uneven bursts.

Harry didn't even know why he was telling Midoriya this; why all these words came tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall. His past was a sore spot, one that Hermione and Ron—his own best friends—were barely able to get out of him. Yet he was here, spilling everything to Midoriya like it was a story to be summarized.

"My...my parents died when I was a baby…" Harry had to lick his lips and swallow to keep his throat from becoming dry, or even closing up from the upcoming emotions. Flashes of red and green danced in his mind. "My aunt and uncle don't treat me very well...they've never had...really." He laughed pathetically, unhumorously, as he tore his eyes away from Midoriya's own stare. "Mr. Midoriya lived a couple blocks away from where I lived and…"

His voice grew deadly quiet.

"I guess that's where his downfall started."

His tale went on from there: how Mr. Midoriya became a father figure to him; taught him how to read, write, and speak Japanese, gave him a warm home to be in when the Dursleys kicked him out, and fed him when his aunt and uncle were withholding food for one reason for another.

Harry hated showing vulnerability. He couldn't—after years of being hardened with hate from his childhood, then to the hardship Voldemort made him go through, to the nasty gossip and rumors.

Then, finally, to what made Midoryia's ears bleed: the reason for Mr. Midoryia's death.

Izuku felt like he was dunked into an ice bath, and the shock was still taking over his body. Every word that left Potter's lips sounded like static, but he could still hear him clearly. The world was moving around him, but only he was the one who could feel the earth stop.

His dad was dead, he realized.

His dad, who was never around, but was still his dad, was dead.

" _And so I'm the reason why he's dead!_ " Potter finally gasped out, body shaking, and after what seemed like decades, he was finally able to notice the shiny tears streaking Potter's cheeks.

The ground was suddenly pulled out from under Izuku.

" _I'm sorry...I'm sorry…_ "


	14. Chapter Thirteen

It was a bright and sunny day, one filled with birds chirping and a warm breeze that caressed his cheeks as he organized. Hedwig flew in and out of the open window, often with her catch of the day tucked in her beak to show off to Harry. He'd do the routine smile, praise, and then watched with fascination as she gobbled it up.

The festival ended with a bang with Bakugou Katsuki snatching first place and All Might signing the competitors off. They had two days off, and Harry gladly spent his day inside his hotel room. It was an exhausting time, but he couldn't rest because the mess that Harry left out only grew after Hermione and Ron's parcel came in.

His bed had no more space for a human, much less himself, as the contents of his package was spilled out on every corner of the covers and pillows.

In the left corner were his sixth year textbooks; old and worn out copies of books like _Advanced Potion Making_ , courtesy of Hermione's drive for him to not miss a single second of his schooling, and Ron for stealing them.

"These ruddy copies were all I could snatch from the Professor's cupboards. Sorry mate!" was scrawled out on a crumpled parchment note and plastered on the cover with Spello-tape.

They also supplied him with more owl treats—"Look, Hedwig!"—and several cases of butterbeer, more of Honeydukes' finest that he was sure to enjoy, and other small school supplies, healing potions, or trinkets. He'd be sure to get Hermione some of the English-to-Japanese books she wanted, and some omiyage. Ron would be perfectly happy with any snacks and a small trinket or two, and he was already making a list of all the weird snacks that he'd want his best friend to try. (Kaminari was talking about wasabi flavored kit-kats and ice cream the other day.)

But underneath vials, quills, and books, was a folded newspaper that he pulled from the depths.

 _A STUDENT CURSED AT HOGWARTS?_

The picture on it moved like a slow motion replay of Dumbledore amongst multiple cameras and floating quills and notepads. A bright flash of a camera went off in the photo and picture shifted to the lion-like man, the new minister. Hair on Harry's arms stood up on the ends at the thought of the Daily Prophet putting their greasy hands on Hogwarts again, and he was especially uncomfortable about they publicizing Katie's attack. With him gone from Hogwarts, Hermione said it was just to be expected. Everyone in the Wizarding World wanted to know what made Harry leave, or when he was going to come back.

Before Harry could read further, a soft knock sounded at his door.

Hedwig immediately turned her head to the door and stared with large eyes, unblinking. Harry snapped out of his stupor and shuffled as quietly as possible. He leaped over discarded clothes and his cauldron to shove the newspaper underneath his pillow before he padded over to the door. The Gryffindor leaned over the peephole, and green eyes widened behind the glass.

Moving as quickly as possible, Harry unlocked the door and pulled it wide open.

A nervous Izuku Midoriya stood behind it. The boy jumped when Harry opened the door, and he looked nervously at the wizard.

"Midoriya-kun!" Harry said, eyes widening. "What are you doing here?" Harry thought that after their talk Midoriya was going to avoid him like the plague; maybe meet up once or twice to ask about his father, but nothing more than that, especially because he was sure that the boy would resent him now, or be put off by how Harry broke down in front of him. Harry even promised to mail his father's letter to Izuku, or pass it to the boy if that was what he'd prefer. After they talked Midoriya ran off, and Harry skipped the rest of the festival. Harry's face colored as if he just remembered his manners, and stepped back. "Oh, you can come in...! It's a bit of a mess, sorry. Wait—" His eyebrows furrowed. "How did you find me?"

"A-Ah…" The green-haired teen looked hesitant, but he stepped in anyway. He surveyed the room for a second before turning those anxious eyes back to Harry. "All Might said that you were staying here…"

 _All Might?_ Harry thought, knitting his eyebrows even further in confusion. _What about teacher-student confidentiality…?_ He couldn't help but think. He unconsciously asked Izuku if he wanted something to drink out of manners, and the boy politely asked for a water, standing awkwardly in a spot in his room where there wasn't any mess in his way. Harry maneuvered his way to the mini fridge in the corner and pulled out two bottles of water.

When he returned, Midoriya simply held the bottle in his uninjuried hand, as if trying to study it before turning those eyes up to Harry.

"You...you stay in a hotel…?" the boy asked in a voice that was as quiet as a mouse. Harry was taken back by the question, but answered with a slow nod.

"...Principal Nezu suggested that I rent an apartment, but I never had the time to go through real estate agents, a service apartment, and apartment hunting…" Harry listed off, ticking off the boxes in his head. He finished it off with a shake of his head. "And I don't think I'd be staying long enough to get an apartment."

Midoriya reacted to his last statement with a jolt, like he just remembered that Harry wasn't going to be here for a long time, probably not even the full term.

Harry was staring at Izuku expectantly, as if waiting for something, and the green-haired boy suddenly remembered why he was here again.

"Um…" Midoriya shuffled awkwardly in place, and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I told my mom about...what you told me…" he finally said. He cleared his throat. "She tried calling him, and then one of our family friends that lived in England and…" His voice dropped in volume. "It's true. You're right…. We, um...we both cried…" Dark green eyes were suddenly trained on the hardwood flooring beneath their feet and he put a hand on the back of his neck. He looked up again when that awkward silence was about to place itself between them. "My mom wants to meet you. O-only if that's okay with you! This is kind of last minute, and you might have other plans…!"

"I'm free today," Harry said in a quiet voice. He broke his eye contact with Midoriya and turned to look Hedwig. "Can Hedwig come? She's well-trained, but if you or your mom don't want her to—"

"Y-Yeah!" Midoriya cut him off, waving his hands. "That's fine, my mom won't mind!"

Hedwig flew to Harry's shoulder right when those words left his mouth.

With a weary smile, Harry turned back to Midoriya.

"Let's go then."

A breath left Midoriya's nose and the boy's head tilted with a curt nod.

* * *

The silence between them was awkward to say the least, but not because they didn't want to say anything, but that they couldn't, or didn't know what to say.

What could one say to their late surrogate father's son?

What could Midoriya say to his father's (practically) adopted son?

For a second, Harry wished he was Ron, always so easy to talk to, easy to get along with. Ron would be nervous, maybe even as uneasy and awkward as he was, but he always knew what to say. He'd even wish that he was more like Hermione, a bit too focused on the goal to care about the semantics of things—at least, that was how she became friends with the two of them.

What he needed was perspective. He needed depth.

He didn't know the same turmoil was going on in Midoriya's head, where the boy's thoughts swirled like a whirlpool, with mutters threatening to spill out of his lips. The two kept a distance between them. No passerby on the street would think that the two were associated with each other, going to the same place, or even knew each other if it weren't for the oddly timed glances that they gave each other.

Even if the two walked at a snail's pace, their odd shuffling landed them in front of Midoriya's apartment before Harry could prepare himself. Any words that he even _thought_ of giving to Midoriya—any thanks, any apologies—were lodged in his throat and lost forever the second the wood under Izuku's knuckles disappeared.

A short and plump women threw the open so eagerly that it nearly slammed on the wall beside it. Her green eyes were wide, and her olive-green hair was nearly coming undone in their short ponytail. Harry's eyes widened and his brain was barely able to work before she threw her arms around him with a desperate cry of, "Oh, sweetie!"

 _Green eyes. Izuku Midoriya's mom. Mr. Midoriya's wife_.

He didn't know how long he stayed in her arms like that, but his body froze right along with time. She was blubbering something in Japanese that he didn't bother translating at the time, but he knew that Izuku was beside him, trying to ease his mom away from his startled figure with gentle coaxings of, "Come on, Mom…. He's clearly shocked…!"

It wasn't until the sound of the clock's arms ticking and turning finally reached his ringing ears that he relaxed. He visibly slumped in her hold and recognized a warm patch on his t-shirt shoulder as Midoriya-san's tears. Slowly and steadily, like he was moving with heavy lead in his arms weighing him down, he wound his arms around her as well and returned the hug, patting her on the back gently.

 _She's just like Mrs. Weasley_ , he eventually thought, warm and comforting like how all mothers were, feeling his own eyes grow hot. She smelled like a mixture of fresh linen and fabric softener and was soft under his arms.

Only after he heard Izuku's hands fall back to his sides did Inko separate herself from the boy wizard, sniffling and wiping off her rest of her tears along the way.

"O-Oh, I-I don't know what came over me! I'm so sorry, where are my manners? Please come in!" She shuffled back and moved into the apartment, hastily picking up stray books and tidying up along the way. Harry blinked his wide almond-shaped eyes and moving unconsciously, almost robotically, he routinely took off his shoes and left them neatly at the shoes rack near the door.

There was almost an enormous intake of breath when he took his first step in.

Hedwig had moved over to sit on Izuku's shoulder, eyes scanning her surroundings with an innocent curiosity. Their apartment was by no means large, but it was clean, well taken care of, and fit a family of two perfectly. There were large shelves for books, there was a cushy couch; it was comfy, it was a _home_.

It was then he noticed.

Izuku and his mom were both dressed in all black. The entire apartment smelled like incense. His head instinctively turned toward the source of smoke and sandalwood, and his eyes landed on a small shrine pushed against the wall.

It was made with a short, dark wooden cabinet, low to the ground and barely reached his waist. His legs moved without thinking, and he grew closer to the shrine before he knew it. There was a framed picture in there, surrounded by small trinkets of blessing from the local shrines and temples and incense standing straight up in their bowls. He was younger in the picture, with the color faded and lacking the definition and resolution that cameras carried today, but Harry could tell who he was from a mile away.

It was a shrine for Mr. Midoriya.

"Come on, dear." A gentle hand patted his arm, and Harry turned his head away from the shrine to look into the worried eyes of Mrs. Midoriya. "Let's talk in the kitchen, okay?" she gently asked. He let out a small nod before she took his hand and led him to their dining room table, seating him down and giving him a warm, freshly brewed cup of tea.

They talked about Mr. Midoriya that day, and a little about him too.

He turned his head over, listening with an intensity to the stories that left Midoriya Inko's lips. He forced himself to pay attention to her words—he needed something to grip onto in reality so he could ignore the clutching feeling in his chest and throat. Her voice was heavy, weighted, but was laced with nostalgia throughout. She talked about how they met, how they started to become friends, significant others, and soon after, married.

She also admitted, among more tears and many more tissue boxes, that she moved Izuku and herself away from their small town to Musutafu because she couldn't stand the distance between her and her husband anymore.

They were ecstatic at first when they first learned of Mr. Midoriya's promotion, even if he did have to move to across the world to work in the bustling city of London. The job would be paying handsomely, and all that work he had put into his studies in schools and the overtime hours he put into his entry job finally paid off. They'd even supply him with a house in a small, unknown town called Little Whinging. He'd promised her then that the job wouldn't be permanent. He'd be back in Japan soon enough, but first and foremost he'd make time for her and his newborn boy, Izuku.

Those two promised years turned into three, and three turned into six, and his words were turning into dust until Izuku could barely remember what his own dad looked like, or even sounded like. She didn't want to have her son wait around for someone who couldn't be there, so she cut off the thin ties that they had, gotten a job, their own apartment, and raised Izuku herself. But she couldn't divorce him, make her baby boy wonder why she wasn't wearing that little ring on her finger anymore or put his clothes away from their dark side of the closet. She couldn't do that to her son:

"A child should love their father," she finally weeped.

Izuku sat beside Harry the entire time, silent with his head bowed. He wasn't a waterfall of tears like his mother, but the sniffles and the shine underneath a curtain of dark green hair told the Gryffindor that this news was as powerful as any hurricane.

In complete honesty, Harry couldn't really remember what had happened during that time, now that he looked back on it, only that after the talk he felt _better_.

He never had anyone to talk to about his parents deaths. Lupin, Hagrid, Ron and Hermione were sympathizers, and he knew that Lupin and Sirius felt pain over their deaths too; but not in the way that _he_ felt it. As their child; with them as his parents.

He also never talked about Sirius or Mr. Midoriya.

Hermione and Ron were his secret keepers, but they didn't understand—they didn't hold the connection between Harry and his godfather, and they never knew Mr. Midoriya to feel any empathy, only sympathy. They were saddened by his death, because Harry was saddened and he was important to Harry.

His parents and Sirius were still uncovered, but this lightened his heavy heart.

Before they knew it, the sun was setting.

"O-Oh my—there just aren't enough hours in the day," Midoriya-san said, pushing her chair back and speedily standing up with her eyes trained on the clock above the stove, having her last few sniffles wiped away. She turned to him again, those green eyes glossy like glass. "Potter-kun, please have dinner with us."

Harry stood up and shook his head as politely as possible. "I don't want to intrude," he said. "And you've done enough for me today, Midoriya-san, I—"

"No, you're not intruding at all!" she said, a bit too loudly with her hands together, wringing the soiled tissue in nervousness. "A-And I accidentally made too much food anyway. Much more than Izuku and I could possibly eat, and it would be a shame if it went to waste," she babbled. Finally, she exhaled, and turned to him with a soft, yet nervous smile. "So please stay with us."

Harry didn't know how he could say no.

Izuku set the table while she finished preparing the food, heaving a large sukiyaki hot pot for this cold fall day onto the table with the vegetables and sliced beef alongside it. Along her worried chatters of never asking Harry if he had any allergies or foods that he didn't like, he absentmindedly stated that he had no allergies and that he wasn't at all a picky eater, and noticed that she _coincidentally_ prepared just enough food for three people.

That warmth in his heart only grew the longer he settled into their family dinner.

He slowly pooled his soup spoon in his bowl and brought it up for the first sip, aware of the single pair of eyes that were watching him.

Heat instantly spread throughout his tongue and the spoon fell out of his hand, plopping back into the broth.

"I haven't had a home cooked meal in so long," he softly whispered to himself in English. Realization covered his words and his jaw fell in slight surprise. Hedwig lifted her head up from where she sat beside his legs, tilting her head in wonder.

The food at Hogwarts were amazing, almost restaurant quality, but there was no doubt that the house elves that cooked it always lacked something that Mrs. Weasley always had in her food.

"Hm?" Midoriya-san asked, almost leaning forward in anticipation. "What was that, sweetie?"

"I realized that I haven't had a home cooked meal in a really long time," he admitted, almost sheepishly. He reached his arm out and quickly snatched a cooked slice of beef and carrot with his chopsticks. "Your cooking is amazing, Midoriya-san," he said, voice sincere. "Thank you for cooking this meal."

A flush appeared on the woman's plump cheeks and she smiled so wide that Harry couldn't help but reciprocate.

"No need to thank me, Potter-kun, eat up! You're so skinny—And you're in U.A. with Izuku! You have to eat up to be a hero!"

Harry's smile melted into pressed lips as he turned his head down to look at his rice and soup bowl.

Midoriya-san filled the table with light chatter after that, talking animatedly about the sports festival.

"I fainted seven whole times since the cavalry battle!" she said, holding up seven fingers on her hands, worried eyes trained on her son. Her voice tipped between pride and panic. "And the last two times were from dehydration!"

The wizard looked up from that, carrying the same incredulous look as Hedwig. Seven times? Dehydration? He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or call the hospital.

"You've even got me beat in that department…." Izuku said, struggling to pick up his food with a fork underneath his bandaged fingers.

"You were amazing too, Potter-kun!" Midoriya-san turned to him. "But you're just as reckless as Izuku! I remembered feeling so shocked when I saw that you fainted from blood loss!"

"Ah, really?" Harry lifted up a hand to smooth his bangs and grinned nervously. "I forgot that people were actually watching the event…"

She nodded. "You have to be more careful next time!"

Only Mrs. Weasley and Lupin ever gave him a scolding like that.

They were at the end of their meal when she finally asked.

"Potter-kun?" He hummed in questioning and tilted his head, looking at her. "Can I ask when's your birthday?"

"Huh?" He blinked owlishly in surprise. Realizing that she was patiently waiting for his response, he slowly answered. "It's the thirty-first of July," he said. "I just turned sixteen this summer."

"You're older than Izuku by a year then," she said, smiling. She turned to her son, slowly clearing up the table, and clearly stiff under their glances. "His birthday is in July too! The fifteenth. What a coincidence, right?" She mused, clearing the bowls away in the sink, walking past Harry.

It was when Harry offered to help clean the dishes, faintly stating that he'll be taking his leave soon, but Midoriya-san quickly objected. She insisted that it was getting late, and even though he was a hero-in-training, she didn't trust the safety of the streets on a young teenager. The weather also predicted that it was going to rain soon, and she didn't see a jacket or umbrella anywhere on his person. No matter how many times Harry tried to refuse, her insiting was stronger. Soon after, Izuku ran off to his room to prepare a futon and his bedroom for the night. To Harry's surprise, it was the green-haired boy's own suggestion—Izuku said that the couch was nowhere near comfortable or warm.

Midoriya-san and Harry stood in contented silence for a while with her washing and him drying.

"Potter-kun…" she finally spoke up, finishing up the last of the dishes. Harry inclined his head and turned his head down to look at the small mother. Taking a deep breath, she continued talking. "I hope you won't be mad with him, but...Izuku told me about your past."

The dish went slack in his hand, and he slapped himself out of it, barely catching the ceramic before it crashed on the floor.

He tried to compose himself, drying it off and placing it on the rack before he spoke up again.

"No…" he said, forcing himself to take even breaths. "You deserve to hear the story too, Mrs. Midoriya—" That title slipped out before he could catch himself. She quickly grabbed both of his hands and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You must've been through so much!" she said, almost on the verge of tears again, spiking panic in Harry. Her maternal nature ached for a boy—an orphan, neglected by his own aunt and uncle. "And I know how you must feel—Izuku and I talked about it last night, and you don't need to worry about a thing. Hisashi is—" Her breath hitched and pain flashed through her eyes. "Hisashi was an adult, so he was responsible for his own choices and decision." She exhaled and blinked multiple times to clear away any tears. "He knew what he was doing, and you shouldn't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault." Taking in the expression in Harry's face she cleared it up. Her hands tightened through Harry's, squeezing with trepidation.

"I miss my husband…" she said, voice trembling and eyes growing shinier, "and I am heartbroken about his death…but if it was to save you—" She stopped to weep. It wasn't until a tear fell on Harry's hand that he realized that he was crying.

"I'm happy that you're here, Potter…" she finally said. "Here and alive, and healthy in front of me. Izuku and I don't blame you for his death, no matter what you think."

She sounded so sincere and honest at that point, it was hard for Harry to not feel that blutching in his chest come up again. He stood there, wanting nothing more than to hug the woman in front of him, but he was too startled to, like a deer in the headlights.

"I...thank you." he finally croaked out after a long pause. "Thank you so much."

She smiled genuinely and pulled him in for another hug. This time he didn't hesitate to return it.

"And if you ever need to talk to anyone...or if you need anything at all...I'll be right here."

His only reply was to tighten his arms around her.

* * *

Izuku's room wasn't hard to find by any means. The hallway wasn't big and only had three doors on the sides of the walls. It was hard to miss the "Izuku" sign on the door, done in All Might's familiar style and written in English.

Harry knocked gently, and the door slid open with a wide-eyed boy behind it.

"P-Please come in!" Izuku said, shuffling back to adjust the futon in the middle of the room.

Harry slowly entered the room, taking in the size and furniture, but also...the All Might merchandise everywhere. In a way, it was what he was expecting and didn't expect at the same time. He knew that the boy was a big fan of the loud, blond Pro-Hero from the classes that they shared (the fanboy squealing whenever All Might made an appearance was enough evidence). The room was practically covered from corner to corner with his blond teacher's blinding white smile.

"Y-You can sleep on my bed tonight," Izuku said, ruffling his wet hair in the towel and about to settle in the futon.

"I can't do that!" Harry said, shaking his head.

"Ah! No really, I insist!" the green-haired boy shook his head.

"I'm not going to take your bed from you, Midoriya-kun," the Gryffindor stated firmly.

It was silent between them for a while, a standstill in a game of tennis or volleyball before the other made a move again.

In a blink, both boys dove for the futon and landed on the thin mat at the same time as the other, laying on opposite ends. The two looked at the other with wide eyes for a while, not expecting the other to mirror their move, and not knowing what to do or say now.

Hedwig, as observant as ever, grew tired of this gave that they were playing and flew over to land on Midoriya's shoulder, making the boy yelp and jump. She chirped and chittered, making the boy's eyes grow wide before they softened in amazement. Slowly raising a hand, Hedwig inclined her head and Izuku petted her with a gentleness.

A smile grew on Harry's face. "She likes you." That was a good sign, he trusted Hedwig's judgement just as fiercely as he trusted Ron and Hermione.

"A-Ah, really?" the boy nervously said, his hand faltering before a hesitant smile reached his lips. "What's her name again?"

Harry nodded. "Hedwig," he said contently. "Her name is Hedwig."

"Hed…" Midoriya muttered under his breath, eyebrows crinkling slightly as his nose scrunched up in concentration. "Hed—He-Hedowigu," he fumbled with the pronunciation. "Hedowigu-san," he finally said with a shy smile.

Hedwig hooted and turned to Harry with a questioning turn of her head.

"'San' is kind of like 'Mr.' or 'Ms.' That means that Midoriya-kun respects you, Hedwig!" Harry explained, watching with an amused crinkle in his eye as Hedwig puffed up her chest. She relaxed her pose and chirped again. "You want me to start referring to you as 'Hedwig-san' too?" Harry asked, containing the smile on his face from turning into a full on laugh. He then turned to the nervous green-haired boy who was silent under the strong connection between the owl and owner. But looking closer at him now, that surface of nervousness was outshined by that excited gleam in the boy's eyes.

"I added '-san' because of her intelligence! She can understand you, and I've never seen a pet so well-behaved...so you must've trained her incredibly well…! Even though she's a female snowy owl, her fur is incredibly pure white, but I heard that females tend to have darker fur—!" he rambled. "She's unlike any other owl I've ever seen—A-Ah! Not that I've seen a lot in my life though!" Izuku jumped at his own mishap.

"Hedwig's just naturally this intelligent," Harry smiled, preening Hedwig under his gentle fingers. "She mostly came self sufficient—I didn't really train her at all. We've been together since I was eleven, so we understand each other." The wizard paused to recall Izuku's fast and jumbled muttering. Harry was eager for this opening, a chance for them to talk and be natural between each other. "She's more of a companion than a pet, and she's a snowy owl, but she's still a different breed...? They're more intelligent and they're not really nocturnal." Harry couldn't help but release that questioning tone at the end of his statement. Harry didn't learn much from Hagrid's hazardous Care for Magical Creatures lessons, but he did learn that wizarding animals and regular muggle animals could look the same at face-value, but differed enough in biology and intelligence to be categorized as "Magical Creatures."

"Really?!" Midoriya gasped, pulling a burned and wavy book seemingly out of nowhere. Harry's eyes were fast enough to catch the bold writing on the cover:

 _Hero Analysis for the Future_

 _No. 13_

"I thought that was strange, having an owl during the day! And you could clearly understand her too, but I thought that it was part of your Quirk, but your Quirk is clearly offensive based, so that couldn't be it—" The boy flipped the book open to a used page and started to sketch out a picture of Hedwig in the right corner, occasionally glancing up every now and then to capture her image.

"Is that a page on me?" Harry asked, voice laced with surprise when he finally read the title of the left page.

Potter Harry.

"A-Ah!" Izuku jumped again. "I-I'm sorry for not asking for permission! I-I have a page for everyone, but since I've never seen your Hero costume, I only have small notes on your Quirk. I started it since the incident at USJ, but I didn't expect that you would be my classmate or even...my d—" Izuku stopped himself there, voice falling silent, but Harry couldn't listen as the boy's clatterings became faster than he could understand. Harry gently took the book from Izuku and started to read the notes that he had on him.

 _Fast enough to stop Nomu's attack and saved Kacchan, but lacks skills in hand-to-hand combat—broke his arms fighting the League of Villains._

 _Quirk: He's able to turn his energy into physical blasts! (Can explode inanimate objects, knocks out humans.)_

 _He should have a lot of stamina to keep up with his Quirk, but looks visibly tired when he is allowed to join P.E.._

"Can I...look at the other pages?" Harry asked out of pure curiosity, lying on his stomach and looking up at Izuku.

"S-Sure! Go ahead!"

Harry flipped to a random page and landed on their own teacher's: Eraserhead.

Izuku had doodled the shaggy man on the left page and put in his observations on the right, all of which were extremely detailed.

Notes about his Quirk, his limits, how his hair raised when he used his Quirk, and more.

"I-It's a bit embarrassing…" Midoriya admitted, scratching the back of his head and slouching.

"It's brilliant," Harry finally said, voice light with awe. Even Oliver Wood, Quidditch fanatic and more insane than not, made weaker notes about the opposing teams. "Absolutely brilliant."

"A-Ah! Really!? You think so?"

Not even Izuku was prepared for how surprised he sounded, eyes growing wide and almost jumping out of his skin as a afterward. His entire childhood almost everyone thought that his book was strange; the lonely, Quirkless boy always burying his nose in it to write away about heroes that he would never be close to reaching. He'd been ridiculed for it, insulted. Even if some were too polite to say anything about it, they had undoubtedly thought that it was weird, how he spent more time with his books than actual people.

The only other person to compliment it was All Might.

"Is my hand-to-hand combat really that bad?" Harry muttered, running a hand through that messy wave of tangles. Green eyes jumped from others' pages and his own, comparing stats and skills. He had said it more to himself, but Midoriya perked up at the sound.

"I-It's not that bad, P-Potter!" Midoriya insisted, waving his hands. "I-It's just that with the whole sports festival—and you were barely in our hero classes—and this whole craziness...I never had the chance to write more about you!"

"But it's not perfect either, right…?" Harry looked as frustrated as he felt, with eyebrows knit and his hand constantly ruffling up his hair. This was a fact that Harry knew well. If he didn't have magic, Harry knew that he would burn out like a short candle in minutes. There was no doubt that almost all the other boys in his class were better built, almost borderlining bodybuilder muscular. If Harry didn't take Quidditch to get some exercise in his body and didn't run up and down the moving staircases to catch all of his classes, Harry would be struggling even more.

Maybe he should've put in physical training during Dumbledore's Army. Maybe then they should've just run circles around Umbridge to tire her out.

Harry looked up at Midoriya again. "You wouldn't know any tips on working out, would you?"

Izuku, if he could, would glow brighter than the sun during that exact moment.

"I do!"

Harry waited on the futon as the shorter boy ran off to his shelves and pulled out some other notebooks with the same title and those healthy lifestyle books.

As Izuku started to talk excitedly about how he wrote all of these notes on losing weight, building muscle and stamina, and more when he was younger, they still worked just as well now. The boy flipped it open and laughed shyly at some of the drawings he did when he was younger, but then directed Harry to his notes about working out.

"I-I actually did some training a couple months ago! I don't think I can repeat it for you, but I'd love to help you out if you need it!" Izuku said helpfully, clutching a book to his chest with a flush on his cheeks from talking and grinning so much; so glad that someone took an interest in his hobby, or that Harry asked _him_ of all people.

With that the boys got to work, and just ten minutes in Harry spoke up.

"Oh, and Midoriya-kun?" Harry said, turning the pages.

"Hm?"

"You can just call me Harry," he said, a shy, but sincere smile on his face.

A smile that Izuku replicated right away.

"Then you can call me Izuku!"

* * *

The boys never made it to bed, and never settled their debate on who got the futon either. Both boys ended up falling asleep right where they were on the floor, sprawled out, next to each other.

As Inko closed the door with a small smile on her face, she walked over to the shrine to leave one last prayer before bed.

"They look like they get along, Hisashi…" she whispered softly, hands together. "They...the two boys... looked just like brothers for a minute…

"If only you were there to see it."

* * *

" _I thought...did dad decide not to come back because I didn't have a Quirk?" Izuku said, tears falling down his cheeks and dripping down his chin. It was late at night, fresh after the sports festival, yet mother and son were still up. He had ran home, telling his mom to call Hisashi immediately, and to her, who hasn't spoken to her husband in months, maybe it was even a year—was terrified._

 _When the line came up with the voicemail three, four times, Izuku finally broke down and told her about what the boy at school told him—Hisashi was dead._

 _Her blood felt cold, but she had to be there for her son. It had been almost an hour later, and they were still crying, talking._

" _No, sweetie!" Inko immediately cried, about to throw her arms around her son. "Hisashi...Your father wasn't the most affectionate, but he would never do such a thing. He was beyond happy when you were born Izuku—happier than I had ever seen him before."_

 _She finally threw her arms around the crying teen._

" _Your father loved you—I'm positive."_

 _Izuku then shook his head and blinked the tears away. Inko watched through tear-soaked eyes as he shook his head and gently pulled himself away from her grasp._

" _Oh, my baby…!" Inko sobbed grabbing his hands as the mother and son pair sat down on the couch. "A-Are you mad at the other boy…? If you don't want to see him, you don't have to—"_

" _No, mom," Izuku said, cutting her off. "I...I'm not mad at Potter. I mean...I was a little at first—like why did he leave me...why did he have to go?" Izuku's voice squeaked at the end, hitching and rising in pitched with his overwhelmed emotions._

" _But then I thought...he was barely there for me, but...I've always had you. With Potter...he finally learned how to be a dad."_

 _He looked up and Inko wondered how she was so blessed to get such an amazing son. A wobbly smile was on his face with pained eyes streaming tears._

" _I'm glad...he learned how to be a dad."_

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

This chapter came out a bit earlier than it was supposed to because I was so hyped by the third season! Thank you all so much for the amazing comments, I practically thrive off reading them!

I've also had people ask if Midoriya fainted in the last chapter. He didn't, it was just an expression I wrote to express how shocked he was feeling.

Someone also asked (sorry it took so long to answer) if Pony might be a love interest if Harry had one in this story: She won't, sorry! This story isn't romance centered, but this does take place during _Half-Blood Prince_ , where most of Harry's romance took place canonically, so I'm still deciding on whether or not to give Harry a S/O.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

When Harry woke up the next morning, he padded over to the kitchen and was greeted to the sight of Mrs. Midoriya feeding Hedwig small pieces of grilled salmon. The mother greeted him happily, and muttered something about: "I'm not sure if owls can eat salmon or not, but I asked Hedowigu and she seemed okay with it! She nodded and everything!"

Harry smiled and politely greeted her. The brunet padded over to Hedwig and patted her head, turning to Midoriya-san and telling her Hedwig's usual diet.

"But she likes some bacon here and there," he had to add.

The green-haired mother insisted that he stay for breakfast too, but that was where he had to put his foot down. Instead she gave him his breakfast in a neatly wrapped bento box, and he gratefully took it with both hands. The wizard bowed and promised that he would be back soon.

Mrs. Midoriya beamed and Izuku entered the kitchen just in time to say goodbye to Harry.

Once the Gryffindor made it back to his hotel room, his mood instantly twisted and he wrinkled his nose at how _cold_ his room was compared to the Midoriya apartment.

Shrugging it off, he gently set the bento box down and started his morning routine. He took a shower, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. Padding out of the bathroom, he quickly poured Hedwig some of her owl treats with a bowl of water and the two had breakfast together.

Harry cleaned the box to the best of his ability with a Scourgify and set out to clean the rest of his apartment from the clutter he left from yesterday. He never had to worry about possible intruders or robbers coming into this room; with the help of Hermione he charmed it to repel anyone with ill intent, and housekeepers never came in because he always had the "Do not disturb" sign on the doorknob.

It was then he remembered that he had Mr. Midoriya's stuff to return. Old shirts and ties, small books and notes. He remembered that he took everything he could when he was still in England. Harry moved across his room and reached into his enlarged trunk, taking out everything he could and nearly arranging them together with Izuku's letter on top.

He knew that it would look too strange if an entire closet was stuffed inside one small school bag, and he didn't even want to think of the heart-attack Izuku and Midoriya-san would have if they tried to reach into enlarged bags.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do this the manual way," Harry sighed, scratching his head and looking at Hedwig. She perked her head up from her water bowl and gave him a single hoot. He grinned. "I don't suppose you can help me carry some, do you?" She didn't reply, but shook her feathers out like they were wet from a bath and took flight in their small room. She snatched a wristwatch from the top of the pile with ease and circled the room. The wizard laughed at the owl's enthusiasm. "Miss sending the post?" he asked, a smiling growing on his face before turning his eyes down at the large pile of objects on his bed. "We'll be making multiple trips anyway…"

He fit as much as he could into his school bag and in a reusable bag he bought from the 100 yen store, and set off. On his way to the Midoriya apartment again, he was stopped multiple times by people who recognized him from the sports festival, almost making him awkward and irritated from the new attention he was getting.

The "fame" that he had on him in the Wizarding World was an uninvited one, and so was this too, but the people here didn't hold him on a pedestal, so he attempted to be as polite as possible.

They gave him, "You did great!" or, "I was rooting for you against Todoroki!" All praises and nice words, before he politely thanked them and dashed off.

He made it to the Midoriya apartment in record time, nearly shocking the daylights out of Midoriya-san that he was back so soon.

"Ah! Potter-kun, you should've told us that you needed help! Izuku! Izuku! Please help Potter-kun carry more of your father's stuff!"

Izuku emerged from his apartment with a sheepish look on his face and greeted Harry cheerfully. Harry nodded back and gently set the bag down and emptied his schoolbag.

The kind mother waved the two boys bye as they set off again with Hedwig taking the lead. On their trip to Harry's apartment, they were stopped again by another person who wanted to congratulate them with thumbs up, but commented off-handedly, "Shame that you two both lost!"

Izuku squeaked, cheeks blushing and tried to be as modest as possible, staying like that until the passerby cheerfully waved them bye.

"I almost forgot about the sports festival," Harry commented, almost to himself, but then he turned to Izuku who was still steaming at the ears. "How are you feeling?"

"O-Oh! Good! My arm's still pretty weak, so I can't use chopsticks, but they're not shaking as hard as yesterday!" Izuku replied, smile as bright as the sun even through all the bandages he was wearing. Harry wondered if this was how Hermione and Ron felt every time he pushed off their worries whenever he left the Hospital Wing.

"I should be asking you too! Your fight with Todoroki-kun had me on the edge of my seat! It's amazing how fast you thought through all of his attacks, and Todoroki-kun has an incredibly trained mindset—" the shorter teen sped at a mile a minute.

"Not really…" Harry said, feeling awkward from all the praise by Izuku of all people. "Todoroki was pretty easy to predict. I don't know him well, but...he doesn't use his ice in any other way than just...the ice wall thing, I guess," Harry said. "You were pretty incredible out there too, _and_ you faced his fire power,"

"Still! He ended up knocking me out, but you were only knocked out because of blood loss, right? You managed to break his giant ice wall, and do that aerial trick! We had thought that you two were both knocked out of the ring for a second, but you were really up in the air! How did you do that?!" Izuku looked like he was ready to pull out his notebook at any second, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I…" Harry looked at Hedwig and she gave him an owl equivalent of a shrug. He didn't want to tell Izuku about his magic, but felt discomfort crawl up his arms at the thought of lying to the boy. He gave Izuku a sheepish smile. "Sorry, family secret."

Izuku opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed his jaw and turned away, deciding against it.

They were silent until they reached Harry's hotel room again, and quickly got to packing up Mr. Midoriya's stuff in the boxes Midoriya-san gave them.

It wasn't until the second or third trips back and forth that they were finally finished. It was evening again, and Midoriya-san managed to convince Harry into joining both lunch and dinner again.

After two fulfilling meals, Izuku stretched languidly and plopped down on his bed.

"You brought a lot of things to Japan!" he commented once Harry sat down beside him. The Gryffindor nodded, but his green eyes were trained on the All Might poster that was on the wall across from him, the bright smile shining past the sheen the paper.

"I brought everything I own," the Boy-Who-lived admitted. He looked down at his school bag immediately after he said that, and dug into the charmed depths, ignoring the wide-eyed look on Izuku's face the moment those words left his lips. The green-haired boy managed to close his lips and avert his eyes when Harry straightened up again, a crisp, clean letter in hand.

"Here," the wizard handed off, extending his arm to the shorter teen.

"H-Huh?" Izuku asked, gently taking the letter from Harry with his good hand. "W-What's this?"

"It's…" Harry's green eyes fell on the folded envelope and the emeralds softened to the color of leaves in the rain. "Mr. Midoriya asked me to do one thing—it's to give you this letter."

"I—" Izuku looked down at the paper in his hands as if they held the biggest secrets he could possibly know; his hand was shaking and his eyes were already watering. Harry's expression grew sympathetic, with a quirk of the lip and droopy eyes.

Sighing and stretching, Harry pushed himself off Izuku's bed with one large heave.

"I'll give you some space—"

Izuku grabbed Harry's flannel sleeve with his bandaged fingers and cut him off. The Gryffindor looked down at the younger boy, his eyes still fixed on the letter and his bangs downcast, creating a curtain over his face.

"Can you...can you sit with me as I read it?" Izuku asked, voice as soft as snow and words tripping over each other.

Wordlessly, Harry nodded and sat back down on the bed.

He patted Izuku's shoulder when tears started to soak the open letter.

* * *

It was dark when Harry walked back to his hotel; alone, despite having both Inko and Izuku insist that the younger teen should walk back with him. But Harry could take care of himself, and said that he would be perfectly fine.

"Besides!" he had said, trying to calm down Mrs. Midoriya's worries. "I have Hedwig with me!"

He pulled out his key card and slid it into the door lock, clicking it open once the light turned green and was instantly greeted with the feeling of cool air conditioning. The place was just as messy as he left it, and he crossed the room to close the curtains, pausing momentarily to admire the Musutafu skyline.

"Hard to believe what happened these past few months, huh, Hedwig?" he asked, turning his head to the white owl. She paused in her preening and hooted at him, eyes wide.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of someone calling his name made his head snap toward the source at lightning speed.

"Calling Harry Potter! Calling Harry Potter!" rang Hermione's voice.

Harry dove for the two-way mirror and the second it fell into his hand the surface ripped to reveal his two best friends. The brunette and the redhead both visibly slumped and sighed in relief at the sight of him.

"Harry!" Hermione called, perking up and leaning closer to the mirror. "You're okay!"

"Of course I'm okay," Harry answered, blinking in confusion. He hadn't had a fight, his injuries were healing well; he couldn't think why they would be nervous. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"We tried calling you today and all of yesterday!" Ron said, waving his arms. "Hermione thought that they finally found you and you and the Ministry were having some showdown or something…"

"That's not what I said, Ronald!" Hermione snapped, elbowing the redhead in the stomach. Harry winced as the Weasley wheezed visibly.

The Boy-Who-Lived's lips fell into a lopsided smile at his best friends' antics; with the past two days already feeling like weeks, he missed the two horribly.

"Sorry I couldn't answer," Harry said, easing himself on his bed. "I...I finally talked to Mr. Midoriya's son."

"What?" Hermione's head snapped toward him again, brown eyes wide, and Ron's jaw dropped.

"No way!"

Harry slowly nodded and retold the story to them, starting from the beginning and moving to the events that just happened a couple hours ago.

"I can't believe I missed it," Harry remembered saying, voice rough with frustration. "His name is Izuku Midoriya, with big green eyes and green hair and lots of freckles."

But as he moved along in his story, Harry grew lighter, eyes growing bright and voice rid of the heaviness that plagued him. He told them about how Mrs. Midoriya was just as sweet as Mrs. Weasley, and how the mother and son pair practically opened their arms to him these past few days.

It was obvious that Harry was happy.

Hermione, who had a burning question on her tongue couldn't let the words pass her lips. Even though there were no words exchanged between Ron and Hermione, they both were able to read each other's minds.

They couldn't ask Harry when he was returning to Hogwarts now; not when this was the happiest he had been in months.

* * *

"Good morning, Harry-kun!" Every step Izuku made created splashing sounds as his sneakers slammed against the wet asphalt. All around them, rain fell from the sky and pounded against the hard ground.

"Morning, Izuku-kun," Harry greeted, watching the green-haired boy run up with a large black umbrella. Somehow throughout the day yesterday Izuku and Harry made plans to meet up everyday before school started; Harry's path from his hotel to U.A. was going the same way as Izuku after he stepped off the transit.

The two fell into step with each other and started to walk their way to school, passing small talk between them. Izuku asked Harry to hold the umbrella over the both of them and Harry pulled his hood off his head.

"Ah, is Hedowigu-san not with you today?" Izuku asked, big green eyes blinking up at the wizard.

"She's not that fond of flying in the rain, so she's staying indoors today," Harry answered, thinking of the smug owl, burrowed warmly in his covers while he had to pull himself out of his bed for the day. Before he could pout at the boast that Hedwig was going to chirp at him today after school, he was cut off.

"This is no time for an idle stroll!" a booming voice shouted behind them, with quick, splashing footsteps following. Harry whipped his head back and saw the class president dashing through the rain, wrapped tightly in a raincoat. "We'll be late!" he said as his sprint broke past Harry and Midoriya. "Good morning, Midoriya-kun! Potter-kun!"

"A p-poncho and rain boots!" Midoriya shouted in surprise. The two boys met each other's eyes and broke off into a run after Iida. "Late?" Deku had to ask. "But we've got five minutes before the first bell!"

"The students of U.A. make it a point to arrive ten minutes early!" the blue-haired boy shouted into the rainfall.

Huffing, Harry pushed his legs to follow after the two with a soft smile unconsciously falling on his face.

He didn't know it then, but this was the first school day that Harry didn't compare to Hogwarts.

* * *

The class was filled with chatter about the sports festival: how the classmates were stopped on the street, stared at, given encouragement. Harry soundlessly made his way to his seat, peacefully evading the noise around him as he slide into the rolling chair and dropped his bag beside his feet. The bell rang not even a moment later and Aizawa shuffled into the room, bandage free.

"Morning," the shaggy man muttered as he shuffled to the podium.

"Good morning!" the class rang in reply.

"It's good to see your bandages off, Aizawa-sensei," Tsuyu commented from the seat beside Harry.

"The old lady's treatment was excessive." Aizawa rubbed his eyes tiredly. "But never mind that. Today we've got Hero Informatics class; and a special one at that."

There seemed to be a pause for dramatic effect, and everyone leaned in to hear more.

"You'll be coming up with your Hero aliases."

Students shot out of their seats with a rowdy cheer, fist-bumping the air, and it seemed like in a blink Harry was suddenly looking at everyone's backs.

"Awesome! Time to shine!"

The teacher looked even more tired (if that was even possible) and lazily cracked his knuckles. Someone shushed the class until they fell back into silence so Aizawa could speak.

"But first…" he started to talk again, "concerning the Pro draft picks I mentioned the other day…. It's based on who the Pros think will be ready to join the Hero workforce after another two or three years of experience, so you can say that it's a way for them to show interests in your future." Murmurs floated around the room, growing louder by the second as everyone's interest climbed. Aizawa's knuckles knocked against the chalkboard behind him and the projector above sprang to life. Harry watched as the lights created a labeled graph with the name of his classmates, and the Pros that wanted to intern them.

But he snapped out of his lazy, relaxed slump over his desk the second his eyes landed on the fifth name on the graph. His name was shining clearly on the board and the number "286" shone bright right beside the bar. Above his name was Todoroki, Bakugou, Tokoyami and Iida, while Kirishima, Momo, Kaminari, and Uraraka's names followed.

"In other years it's been more spread out," the sleepy teacher explained, staring at the glaringly obvious imbalance, "but this year all eyes were on these two."

Harry's eyes jumped to Todoroki's and Bakugou's names, whose bars were more than fourteen times larger than his own and he couldn't even hold a candle to. Yet that feeling of anxiety built in him the longer he sat in his seat.

The 286 Pros that wanted to intern him meant that at least 286 pairs of eyes were on him, placing him more in the spotlight than he wanted. That was a number larger than he was comfortable with. Even his name being placed on the board above meant bad news: he had already caught Pros' interest faster than fifteen of his classmates, all of whom were here before him.

He was supposed to sit still, stay low. Get as strong as possible without attracting attention to himself.

Focus on yourself, but don't let them focus on you. Don't attract the attention of the Ministry. Get what you needed done done, and then….

He stopped in his tracks, halting the train of thought.

 _And then when you're ready, disappear quietly_ , he was going to say, unconsciously twisting the cap of the pen in his hands. The image of a green-haired, freckled boy popped into his head the second that thought was about to intrude his head.

Midoriya, he thought, feeling a pitfall in his stomach.

Before he was able to think further though, quell the storm in his head, Midnight walked in and whiteboards were suddenly being passed back. Harry quickly snatched the whiteboards dangling in front of him with a short thanks and speedily passed the rest of them back.

That thought was going to have to wait for later, he told himself.

* * *

He never thought about having a Hero name before.

His classmates in primary school all had one, something silly and outlandish to go with their young age and their Quirk; but Harry was a realist. He knew he didn't have a Quirk, and he had no hope of becoming a Hero, so he never raised his hopes like that. But this wasn't a profile username that he could use and discard whenever he felt like it; it had to be more serious than that.

Now, sitting frustrated in a classroom, he was beginning to regret young Harry's decision.

More and more of his classmates went up, and he grew more agitated by the minute.

He knew that there was honestly no reason to be: he wasn't going to become a Hero anyway, the Hero alias could be changed, but everyone that went up but so much effort into their names. Harry didn't want to disappoint somehow, so he sat with an empty mind trying to churn out a Hero name.

 _Maybe 'Merlin'…?_ he attempted to think. ' _Sorcerer?'_

No, he told himself with a shake of his head. That would make it way to obvious and he wasn't that big of an idiot. Having those names also sounded pretentious, and he wasn't Malfoy. It had to be something that represented him, but didn't expose his identity too much.

Maybe Stag or Grimm, as homage to his father and godfather, but that was _their_ identity. He needed something that was solely him.

He thought back on his childhood, and then turned over every aspect of his life at Hogwarts. He went over his first year with a fine toothed comb, jumping from his meeting with Ron, getting lost on the vast castle, to the classes he took. Then his eyes lit up at one particular memory: him, standing on a vast pitch with bronzed goal posts standing on each end; the rush of wind, the cheer from the crowd—

"Are you ready, Potter-kun?" Midnight called, snapping Harry out of his reverie.

The boy's head snapped up with a, "Huh?" and eyes in the classroom followed. "Oh…" His classmates' stares continued to burn into the back of his head as he nodded and pushed himself off his chair, taking the whiteboard with him as he walked up to the podium.

The classroom was in silence, waiting with interest and patience for his Hero alias.

Finally, he took the board and flipped it over.

"Seeker," he announced, looking at Class 1-A. His voice grew more confident. "I'm going to be Seeker."

* * *

"I'm just not sure about who I should pick, guys…" Harry muttered softly, speaking to the two-way mirror with his best friend's reflection shining back at him. It was hidden within the folds of his rain jacket, but his muggle phone was sitting on the desk beside him in clear view to hide the fact that he was talking to the magical object.

He was currently sitting in the library during lunch hours, looking up and scrolling through the Pros that wanted to have him as an intern on one of the school's state of the art computers. The library was vast, with polished wooden floors and high, smooth shelves of black wood. Bright lights shone from above and on the tops of the shelves, and all of the tables were spaced out between each other. There were only a handful of people in there at the time, all catching up on homework or taking their own alone time. Harry typed in every name, but no Hero stood out to him in any way.

"Is there a particularly flashy Hero that caught your eye, or something?" Ron asked, tilting his head in questioning.

"No." Harry shook his head. "All 286 of them and none of them scream...well...me. You know?" He clicked on another Pro's profile and read their information. "Like I can't see myself being taught by them."

"Who do you see teaching you, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry paused, startled by her question and even more stunned by how he lacked an answer.

After a pregnant pause, he answered. "I dunno," he honestly said, sheepishly. "Someone like Lupin? Sirius? Maybe even someone that would remind me Dumbledore's Army...or Mad-Eye or something…."

"If you miss Hogwarts that badly, you can just come home," Ron said, but there was a teasing tone to his voice.

Harry laughed softly and shook his head. "Maybe I should just ask Lupin to come here." He stopped talking to scroll some more. "How is Lupin anyway?"

"Oh you know," Ron said. "He's just like mum and dad—trying to guilt us into giving them your location. Almost worked once."

"But we're serious about keeping you happy and safe, Harry," Hermione added in a comforting tone.

"He seems kinda...brooding…? Upset..? These days—More than normal, anyway," Ron said.

"Well of course he's upset," Hermione instantly said. "Sirius is—" She stopped herself from going further with an inhale from her nose, nervously catching Harry's reaction to his godfather's name, as if he was a bomb ready to detonate. When Harry only furrowed his brows and his lips made a small turn downward, she warily continued. "And he doesn't know where you are...it's obvious that he's worried...and upset…" Her voice grew quieter and softer with every word in her sentence.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "How's the Order?" he asked. He wasn't going to blow up or get emotional here. He was working on improving from his fifth year.

"They've completely closed us off," Ron said, almost too quickly and almost too perky, as if he was trying to move the subject along and prevent any possible breakdown.

That made Harry's eyes widened.

" _What_?"

"Yeah, Harry." Ron quirked his lips down. "Silencing charms, warding—even Fred and George can't easily eavesdrop anymore."

"Lupin hasn't been around much either," Hermione supplied. "They say that he's off doing undercover work for Dumbledore or something—like trying to get some of the werewolves to join our side. But he comes back at least once a week to see if there are any updates on you."

"Tonks has been hanging around Hogwarts recently," Ron said. "Looks pretty horrible if you ask me though. She's not even doing that crazy stuff with her hair anymore."

"Ron!" Hermione exasperatedly sighed. "Can you not be rude for just one second?"

"What?" Ron asked, indignant. "I'm just telling the truth! Every time we see her—which is a lot nowadays—Tonks looks like she hasn't slept in days!"

Slumping his shoulders as his friends bickered again in the background, Harry sighed. "Maybe I should just close my eyes and choose someone random," he hurriedly brought the subject back to the Heroes.

Hermione shook her head, bouncing those curls around her shoulders.

"Don't be so careless!" she scolded, moving on the topic and dropping her argument with Ron. "Internships are important!"

"'Mione, he's not even going to be a real Hero!" Ron said. "It doesn't matter! It doesn't count for his grades here!"

"But that doesn't mean that he can be lazy or half-hearted about it!" Hermione snapped back, huffing.

Amused, but tired by his best friends' antics, he quickly broke up the fight before they started yelling at each other again.

"It's getting late, mate," Ron said after they discussed a few more potential Heroes that they all turned down because of one thing or another. "Hermione and I have to go do our Prefect thing soon."

"Alright then," Harry said, distracted by the screen.

"Will you be alright without us, Harry?" Hermione asked, leaning closer to the surface.

"Yeah," he said. "I have until this weekend to choose anyway."

"Oh, I know!" Ron said, forcing his friends' attention on him. "Why don't you just go with the strongest Hero?" he suggested. "I mean, the bloke might not be a perfect teacher, but at least you'll be learning something, right?"

"That sounds good," Harry said, thinking it over. He didn't click with any of the others anyway. "Yeah! I might just do that!"

"Great! Night, Harry!"

"Night, guys," Harry said, watching as the screen of the mirror flickered back into a regular reflection.

Turning back to his computer he typed some keys in and the list of ranked Heroes appeared before him. Looking from his personalized drafted list then back to the screen, he clicked on one Hero and nodded to himself.

 _Endeavor: No. 2._

* * *

"Ah, Aizawa-san, are you free right now?" Recovery Girl asked, walking up to the Pro. Her walking was steadied by the cane she was holding, and there was no doubt that there was worry in her wrinkles of her troubled expression. Aizawa looked up from his computer and his fingers froze in their position above the keys. He offered her his seat, but she refused, saying that she was only here for a moment to talk to him.

"I'm not doing anything particularly important right now," Aizawa said. "What would you like to talk about, Recovery Girl?" he asked.

What he was expecting was another checkup, to ask him how he was feeling after those horribly constructing bandages were finally off and how he was finally able to walk around without 100 layers around him, but instead she brought up one of the causes of Aizawa's agitation: the Potter boy.

With the internships and the sports festival, he gladly put that troublesome boy in the back of his mind the best he could and decided that he would leave tomorrow's problems for tomorrow's Aizawa. He was irritated by the aerial trick, yes, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

"I already told Principal Nezu about this, but since you're his homeroom teacher I thought that I should tell you this too," the old lady explained softly. The shaggy-haired man only leaned closer in wait. From the way the rest of the staff room fell silent, they could tell that everyone else was interested too.

Potter Harry was a mystery they couldn't solve; anything that they had on him would be an extra piece in a puzzle that they just started on. Even though she said that she would give the information just to Aizawa, they both knew that this information had to be shared.

"I thought that his official Quirk records from his home was strange, so I had an x-ray done on him during his physical with me." She turned those narrowed eyes to Aizawa. "He has...the extra toe joint."

The staff room burst into exclamations then and there, shouting over each other while Aizawa stilled.

"He's really Quirkless then?!"

"No, you saw him fight Todoroki! That's impossible!"

"Maybe he has some advanced technology…?"

"I don't know what tech can blow up an entire giant ice wall…."

As the volume grew louder and louder, Recovery Girl could only grow concerned as Aizawa didn't react at all. It was like a freeze-frame; he was completely frozen. The result of the evolution, the change of man from powerless to Quirks all was held in that single toe joint.

Out of nowhere Aizawa burst into action again, swirling his chair around and typing on his keyboard in a fury, almost knocking over the stray keys that were in his way. The lines were already connected and linked together in Aizawa's head, all coming together to one thought and one reasoning.

Potter Harry's papers weren't tampered with. He was born Quirkless. As of right now, there was only one possible person that the U.A. staff and Tsukauchi knew of, a person of interest, that could've given Potter his Quirk.

"When did Potter say that he came to Japan again?" Aizawa asked, directing his voice toward anyone in the room that would listen. Present Mic leaned over warily at his coworker and friend's desk space, trying to peer at what Aizawa was typing.

"Uh...Around July, I think…." Present Mic answered unsurely. "Why?"

Aizawa finally clicked on a link and the page automatically brought him to the newspaper article telling him about Black Sirius. With a quick scan of the paper's contents, he confirmed what he was looking for.

" _The exact information is uncertain, but reports say that Black Sirius died in June._ "

"That's only a one month difference." The murmur slipped from Aizawa's lips before he could stop himself. Eraserhead then burst out of his chair and started to throw his belongings in his bag, startling everyone around him. He ignored the comment from Recovery Girl saying that he might agitate his injuries again, but all other sounds fell to deaf ears as his blood pounded.

"I'm checking out early today," he absentmindedly announced, leaning over his chair and logging off his computer.

"W-What?!" someone shouted. "Where are you going?!"

 _If my suspicions are correct…and All Might was able to give his power to Midoriya…._ Aizawa thought, adjusting the bag strap over his shoulder. _Then it would be possible. Potter Harry was to inherit Black Sirius' Quirk by the same means just before his death._

It was too close cut for anything to be a coincidence. And quite frankly, Eraserhead stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago.

This proved to be problematic, on a level that Aizawa could barely even comprehend, let alone conquer.

"Recovery Girl, did you notice anything strange from Potter Harry when you healed him?" the shaggy haired man asked just before he was about to take off.

The little nurse looked troubled for a while, and after a pause that left everyone in wait she finally decided to answer.

"His hand injury…" she said in a shaky voice from her old age, "the one that rendered him unconscious against his fight against Todoroki-kun... It seemed reasonable that he cut it against Endeavor's son's ice, but looking closer...that cut was too strange."

The Pro waited for the small Hero to continue.

"The cut on his hand was almost circular. It almost looked like a whirlpool, with tinier cuts revolving around from his fingers to his upper arm…." Recovery Girl paused again, gesturing to Harry's cuts with her own arm. "I managed to heal the smaller cuts before he woke up. I had thought that maybe the wind carried shards of ice on to his hand next—in a spiral, but the cuts were too neat." She then looked up at Aizawa more clearly. "I thought that it was an effect of the boy's Quirk next—when they first had brought him in to me that villain had attempted to disintegrate the same hand, so I wasn't too sure."

It added up then.

Potter Harry, with a fresh new Quirk that was too powerful for people to understand, caused his own downfall against Todoroki because he didn't know how to control his own Quirk. It was self-destructive just like Midoriya's own actions, and just like every kid with their Quirk. Right now Potter was just like a young snake—a threat to himself and to others, but would only become a danger once he grew. Sirius Black was famed for killing thirteen people, and Aizawa's anxiety peaked as he almost face-palmed for not noticing the similarities in their Quirks until now. If Potter Harry grew in power, became used to Black's Quirk, then he would be able to cause the same amount of damage just as easily.

"Aizawa-san." Recovery Girl stopped him right before he was about to bolt out of the room. The taller man turned around stiffly, and waited politely for her to speak. The little old lady adjusted her glasses and looked up at him. "I'm not sure if it's just my senile old age...and I know that it doesn't look good for Potter-kun now at all, but I believe—from my instincts—he isn't a bad person. Please go easy on him."

He wouldn't have asked if Todoroki-kun was okay otherwise.

Aizawa could only give her a stiff nod and a bow goodbye before he left the staff room.

If Potter Harry had some plan coming here, some ulterior motive—even if he was Eraserhead's student, or a threat planted right in the middle of Class 1-A—then it was up to Aizawa to stop him.

Whatever it takes.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

The reasoning for Endeavor picking Harry isn't one that you might think (like seeing his potential against his own son, becoming interested in him, or something like that), and that will be explained in the next chapter.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_**Notes:**_

\- I'm taking a small creative license for this. In the manga and anime Endeavor immediately takes Shoto to Hosu, but I'm having that being done later.

* * *

"Gran Torino?" Harry asked, heaving his silver briefcase in both hands. In the middle of the train station, loud shouts and mutters surrounded them at every corner.

"Yeah…" Izuku said, shifting his own briefcase in his arms. He looked up at the wizard. "Have you ever heard of him?"

"No," Harry said, blinking and tilting his head, "but I don't know very many Heroes anyway. Not even the ones back home." A thoughtful look appeared on his face and distantly tried to think of all the Heroes he knew. He could probably count them all with both hands, and that was mostly his teachers at U.A..

The two shuffled through the busy train station, trailing at the far back of the large cluster of U.A. students. Aizawa stood at the front, shouting orders and his typical, "Don't fool around!" to the troublemakers of Class 1-A. The station wasn't busy this time of day, but it still flowed and moved with incessant chatter, energy, and motion.

"Ah!" Deku exclaimed with a bring smile, bringing Harry back to the present. "I never asked you who you're interning with!"

Harry replied to his enthusiasm with a simple shrug. "Just some guy called Endeavor." He looked down at the ticket in his hand and completely missed Izuku's shocked look. The one that would've made the boy's eyes nearly pop out of their socket, and had his green hair stand up like a broccoli. "Shame that we're not going to the same place though."

"E-E-Endeavor?!" Izuku shouted, his green hair nearly standing up on the ends. Harry looked up with a confused face.

"Huh? What about him?" He tilted his head with rounded eyes.

"Be on your best behavior! Now go!" Aizawa cut Izuku off before he could explain that Endeavor wasn't just an _ordinary guy_ , let alone an ordinary _hero_ ; not to forget the fact that he was Todoroki's _dad_ of all things, but the voice on the intercom announced Harry's train and the boy was already waving at Izuku and taking off. The words died in Izuku's lips as Harry's figure became smaller and smaller and he sighed pitifully.

Turning to Iida and Uraraka, he trailed after them.

* * *

Endeavor Hero Agency was a large skyscraper that stood high above the rest and skimmed the clouds. Its multiple windows reflected the sky and the multiple floors could barely be seen by Harry even if he craned his neck.

He took a deep breath and gently walked through the sleek automatic doors,

His internship officially started now.

The lobby was large, with warm, golden lights, a cream colored ceiling, dark brown walls, and a sleek marble floor. Harry walked over to the large brown desk at the end of the room and politely got the attention of one of the secretaries. He told her what he was here for and showed her his U.A. papers and ID. In no time at all, she swiftly told him that she would send him up to the highest floor and that Endeavor would be alerted of his presence.

He nodded and thanked the lady at the desk and walked over to the elevator.

 _I'm glad that Hedwig isn't here with me_ , he absentmindedly thought, standing alone in the elevator; he was sure that she wouldn't like it here, would feel too much like she was being caged. He balanced on the balls of his feet and rolled on to his heels as the silence and the wait became too awkward for him. The entire building was stifling, restraining. It was too nicely decorated and he felt out of place in it.

There was also the creeping feeling of someone watching him, following him ever since he stepped off the train platform. It made his skin crawl and his hair stand up with unease. His hand was so tight against the handle of his briefcase that his knuckles were white and taut, and his left hand constantly messed with his right sleeve, prepared to whip out his wand at any moment's notice.

The elevator _ding_ 'ed and he stepped off, letting out that breath he didn't know he was holding.

He repeated the secretary's words in his head and followed her directions before he made his way to the end of the dark hall where two large wooden double doors stood.

Carefully, he knocked.

"Come in," a loud voice gruffly answered. He pulled the door back and peeked a head in, widenings his eyes at the large, almost empty office.

It was darkened with wood panels above and a luxurious chandelier hanging from the middle of the room. The room only held a coffee table, some chairs, and a desk when he could've practically fit the Dursley's entire living room in here. A rich rug was laid at their feet.

He hesitantly stepped in and closed the door behind him, but his eyes never left the blazing form of Endeavor, a shining torch in the middle of the room.

The Pro's hair, beard, shoulders, and shoes blazed with that same muted fire, and Harry couldn't help but think that the fire was dark—almost dim, but still burned with excess heat and power. The man stood formidably, staring Harry down as he walked forward as if he was a bug, and crossed his arms.

Every step he took was like a weight added to his stomach, slowing him down into a stroll.

"Er—" he said, uncomfortable underneath the man's gaze, "I'm Potter Harry, and I'm here for the internships—"

"I know what you're here for." He roughly cut through Harry's words and the remainder of his sentence halted in his throat. Endeavor carelessly dropped papers on his large wooden desk and Harry's eyebrows furrowed when he caught his photo on those papers. The Pro was reading up on him.

"I'm going to be honest," Endeavor simply stated, and the wizard could feel the heat from his gaze. Harry peeled his eyes away from his picture and looked at the Pro again. "My son is going to be here any minute now, so I'm not going to waste time."

"I...I don't understand," were the only words that Harry could utter in his confusion.

"I recognize your Quirk."

The air in his lungs were lost. Those words were like a punch to a gut. His head instantly snapped up and a hurried gasp left his lips. The words in Harry's throat were caught he nearly choked on his own saliva.

 _He recognized magic?!_

"Y-You must be mistaken, E-Endeavor-san—" the wizard croaked, eyes wide with panic. Those five years of being under the Statute of Secrecy's threat loomed over him, gripping him tight with terror.

"When I was younger…." Endeavor took one step closer to Harry, and the boy nervously stumbled back on instinct, but their eye contact didn't cease. A bead of sweat fell down Harry's temple from the heat that loomed off the Pro. "I fought a man with a Quirk exactly like yours."

He nearly dropped his briefcase on his feet.

 _This man fought a wizard?!_

Meaning that this man had to have heard some of Harry's spells, be familiar with them, know what Harry would be capable of, even if he did put himself out as an unpredictable teen.

That ceasing feeling in his throat became intensified. The sweat on his palms was making the grip on his briefcase slick and his heart was pounding. He was cornered, Harry felt, as Endeavor inched closer and closer to his identity as a wizard than anyone else had these months. Even though the Pro continued to use the word "Quirk," there was no doubt in Harry's mind that the man was suspicious.

He might've been a jerk, but as Number Two Hero he couldn't have been an idiot.

"That was the only fight where I've felt utterly humiliated," he said, taking one more formidable step toward Harry, "and it was unsettled. The man managed to escape with the exact same aerial trick that you used on Shoto in the U.A. School Festival."

Harry's heart continued to work at triple the speed, and the handle in his hands was starting to slip between his fingers.

"So what?" Harry finally managed to rasp out, voice rough with unease. He didn't know what to make of the situation, and he didn't know what Endeavor was capable of, or what he already knew.

All he knew was that he fought a wizard, and that alone was enough for Harry to tread carefully.

"Am I just here so you can get revenge on some man I don't know?" The Gryffindor said through gritted teeth.

"Don't be silly," the Pro scoffed, immediately brushing it off. The large man moved to the back of his desk and Harry's eyes followed as he remained still in his spot.

"It would be stupid of me to hold a big grudge over a fight I had decages ago. You're going to be treated like any other intern I have in this Agency, get the same amount of training and do the same amount of work, but I'll be honest with you now."

"It's my son's duty to surpass All Might, and in order for him to do that he would have to easily surpass your tricky Quirk first. He might have beaten you during the School Festival, but his wins against that Midoriya and Bakugou were flukes. If it weren't for your own fatal mistake, you would've won. You were the only one who had the sheer power to defeat him."

The flaming man looked down at Harry then, expecting a reaction, but that boy was only standing still, face contorted into confusion.

He stood there, barely able to process all of this new information that Endeavor was giving him.

He was being used, yes, that information made his anger blaze up like no other, but—

"Todoroki Shoto is your son?" Harry blurted out.

The Pro could only raise one—stupidly, Harry would like to add—burning eyebrow.

* * *

He excused Harry not long after that, and Harry left feeling both dazed and confused, and feeling like he had lost a battle.

 _How did I not know that Todoroki was Endeavor's son until now—?_

He exited the room and slammed the door harder than necessary, but instantly stilled when he saw the figure in front of him.

 _Speak of the devil_.

"Todo...Todoroki-kun?" Harry blinked at the sight of the duel-haired boy that had an indifferent look on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Those words left his mouth in a rush, and immediately afterwards Harry felt like an idiot. He couldn't been any more dense than now.

"I'm interning here…." Todoroki answered softly, with a slight rasp in his voice. The two stared at each other, and Harry wanted to back down and leave but felt like he couldn't. "And Endeavor is...my father."

"Yeah…" Harry let out a sigh and restrained the urge to grab his briefcase and slam his head against it. He was an idiot, Harry thought. A big idiot. Now he understood what Hermione _really_ felt all these years.

"I just found out a couple of seconds ago, actually," he said, an embarrassed streak of pink on his cheeks.

"You…" Todoroki's eyebrows knit, seemingly ignoring Harry's inner turmoil. "You didn't know?"

Harry breathed out of his nose and slumped his shoulders. "I don't know many of our classmates' first names, and…." He tilted his head and peered at Todoroki closer. "You don't look like him."

Harry missed the way Todorki's shoulders stiffened and the way his hand closed tightly around his messenger bag's strap.

People constantly told the Gryffindor that he looked just like his father but with his mother's eyes, and when Harry looked in the mirror or at pictures of James, he could see that. Todoroki's face was too delicate compared to Endeavor's, and he couldn't see any hint of Endeavor's features in his son at all.

"Other than the coloring on the left…" Harry muttered. "You two don't look similar at all."

The two stared at each other for a while, one scanning the other, while one was frozen.

"I see," Todoroki finally answered after another long, awkward pause. "Please excuse me." He moved to push the double doors aside and Harry shifted out of the way.

"Oh," the wizard said when Todoroki's back was turned toward him. "I'm sorry about what I did earlier, by the way," Harry admitted, nervously messing with his shirt collar. He wasn't used to this, but he wasn't at U.A. to make enemies either. He had enough of those. "During our fight. The um—the aerial trick." That was what Izuku and Endeavor called it anyway.

The bi-colored boy didn't bother turning around, but his hand fell from the doorknobs.

"But you lost." Todoroki's voice was muffled.

"That doesn't matter," Harry said, quirking his lips even though Todoroki couldn't see it. "What I did was still pretty nasty, so…I'm sorry." He didn't wait for Todoroki's response this time. "Well, I'll see you around, I guess!"

He ran off then, waving to the taller boy when he finally turned around.

* * *

Life as Endeavor's intern was... _bland_.

Other than their rocky meeting on Harry's first day, he rarely saw the Pro, and that was enough to wane his feelings away from hating the man. Endeavor barely had eyes on him with his son around, and he dropped like dead weight Harry in the hands of an older hero-in-training.

If they did see each other, it was from across the hall or as Harry left the training rooms, always with eyes on him, like Endeavor was waiting for him to slip up.

Harry was still obligated to intern at Endeavor's Hero Agency and U.A. even turned him away when he tried to go back to school normally. He decided to just avoid using his "Quirk" as much as possible then, to get the suspicion off his back, and to, partially, spite Endeavor. Endeavor couldn't use him if he didn't see Harry's magic, after all.

In all honesty...he expected more from the internships.

Harry's days started out at four in the morning, getting up out of bed and taking the train, and then to Endeavor Hero Agency at five on the dot.

Harry then did physical training with the older trainees until nine in the morning, or until Endeavor kicked them all out to clear the room for Todoroki. His superiors had him do katas, light spars, or simple workouts. They were a pain, and always left him sore from head to toe, but he was happily able to tell Izuku, Hermione, and Ron, that he was slowly, but surely, improving his hand-to-hand combat.

He had some issues with some of the other interns who had their egos blown too big and acted like Slytherins on a bad day, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle.

At least that's what he told Izuku over their jumbled texts about full cowls and taiyaki in microwaves.

After the end of the first day as an intern, his face had already gotten to know the mat floors of the gym, and all of his muscles were already crying in protest from a mere hour's workout. He didn't know how he'd last a week or so of this, but his mantra was already, "It will get easier as time goes on. It will get easier."

But now all he wanted to do was lay in a corner somewhere and nap for who knows how long, but it was his lunch break, and he didn't want to spend another second inside Endeavor Hero Agency.

The air in the city was light with energetic chatter, bustling and warm with the crowd around him. The sun beat down gently on everyone and warmed Harry's body to the fingertips. He was going to the konbini for a quick lunch, and then it was right back to work.

One foot was barely out the door when he was called out to.

"Potter."

"Todoroki-kun!" Harry addressed, straightening up after jumping in surprise. Green eyes grew slightly wide underneath round frames and his lower lip dropped.

The teen's heterochromatic eyes bore into Harry's figure, and then locking eyes with his. They stayed like that for a while, silent, staring, and still. The mass of the city still moved around them, chatting and weaving, but they were like a frozen frame. It was a whole minute before they spoke again.

"I'm sorry about your hand," Todoroki said, seemingly out of nowhere. Harry was taken back, wondering if he came all the way here just to say that, or waited this entire time to do it. He didn't seem like the type to apologize, or go out of his way to do it, but Todoroki wasn't cruel about it—only silent. Both of their eyes fell to Harry's bandaged hand. "I heard that you cut it on my ice. I apologize."

"Oh," Harry said, flexing his hand, before waving it with a nervous smile. He moved out of the door and off to the side of the building so they weren't in anyone's way. The situation was a bit awkward, as they were tucked alongside the building, but Harry could respect someone trying to mend a relationship, if they even had one to start with. "It's no big deal, honest," he added when that conflicted look crossed Todoroki's features anyway. He shyly hid his bandaged hand when he caught the boy looking at it again.

 _It wasn't his fault that I splinched_ , Harry absentmindedly thought. And it _really_ wasn't Todoroki's fault that he had gotten out of hand with his magic.

"Are you on your lunch break too?" he asked, voice forcefully light.

"Yes, my father has several meetings too so I'm free for the next two hours," Todoroki blinked in surprise at the question, but composed himself as quickly as it came.

Harry exhaled and a soft smile fell on his lips.

"What's your favorite food? We can eat together."

Harry was just as surprised as Todoroki looked, silently uncomfortable and awkward at this. Normally he would never go out of his way like this, but Todoroki looked awkward enough, and Todoroki already took the time to reach out to Harry.

"Zaru soba," he finally answered, softly, almost warily.

The words completely went over Harry's head, but he nodded anyway.

"I don't know what that is, but I'll look up a place. I can even pay for you—!" Taking every excuse he can, he swiftly took out his phone and started to walk off, head bent down to look at the screen. He was stopped in his tracks when a tight grip snatched his forearm.

"There's a nice restaurant not far from here that sells it…" the half-and-half boy started off softly, "and I have my own money, so you don't need to do that, but...I'll join you."

That hand on the wizard's bicep dropped and Todoroki walked off, with Harry following.

* * *

The darkened noodles arrived on a bamboo tray with a sprinkling of sliced seaweed on top. On the side was a small bowl with a dark sauce and sliced green onions floating to the top. Harry examined it with his chopsticks in his hand, and his face must've given him away, because Todoroki spoke up for the first time since they started walking.

"You dip your noodles in the sauce," he explained carefully. Once Harry was turned to him, Todoroki swiftly grabbed some noodles and dunked it in the sauce, muttering a whispered, "Thank you for the food," along the way before he plopped it into his mouth.

Looking down at his own food again, Harry slowly followed the example, and they started to eat their cold noodles in silence.

"Why did you try to do that earlier?" Todoroki finally spoke up halfway through their meal.

Harry looked up with noodles stuffed in his mouth like a glutton, and he quickly swallowed and wiped his mouth while Todoroki stared on.

"Do what?" he asked while rubbing his mouth with a napkin.

"Why did you attempt to pay for me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Harry blinked owlishly, leaning back in his seat. "Was that rude of me to do? I just did it because we were going to the same place anyway, and I thought it was a nice thing to do—"

"No…" Todoroki finally cleared, placing his chopsticks down in front of his empty tray. "It is a nice thing to do. I was just confused…." He spoke again a little bit after that, almost like he was hesitating. "You're a very nice person, Potter."

A sheepish smile and a faint blush threatened to appear on Harry's cheeks at such a blunt comment.

"Oh! Thank you!"

"A lot of our classmates think so too," the half-and-half boy continued after a small pause, like he was debating on telling Harry. "They like you a lot even though you've only been here for a month."

"That's because I don't want to start any trouble while I'm here," Harry admitted while absentmindedly finishing his soba. "I have loads of people that don't like me back home though."

"...I see," he finally said, and Harry almost had to stifle a laugh from such a delayed reaction. "Maybe that's because you're a very confusing person too, Potter. I don't know anyone that would apologize to the person who defeated them in a fight."

At that, Harry couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. That honesty was refreshing like a glass of cold water.

"You're a pretty confusing person yourself, Todoroki-kun!"

After several seconds of joyful laughter, a small smile appeared on the corner of Todoroki's lips too.

* * *

Todoroki popped up more in his life since then. Across halls, during training, during tasks.

They didn't really speak though—aside from greetings or nods of acknowledgement, but every time Harry spoke to him Todoroki never ignored him, and that was a plus in his books.

It was sparring day today, and it was high tensions and high stakes with the appearance of Endeavor in the room. The Pro normally left the training to his older interns and put all of his attention to training his son, but today even Todoroki would be sparring with the rest of them.

The two U.A. students were silent on opposite sides of the room as the studio was filled with shouts, hits, and grunts. Other than the ones scuffling in the ring, no other intern would dare say a word. Endeavor's presence was as suffocating like the fire he emitted.

"Stop," he said, halting the two sweaty boys in the ring. They both froze in their positions against one another and turned to the Pro, fear unmistakable in their eyes. "I've seen enough, get out of the ring."

"Shoto," he then called, making his son look up at him underneath red and white bangs. "You're up."

The hot and cold boy silently stood up and walked to the middle of the rink without a sound. The air was thick with tension, enough to make Harry's head spin. After a few heavy seconds that felt like hours, Endeavor finally made his decision.

"Potter, get out there."

Harry's head jolted up, and he locked eyes with Shoto for a second before he turned to Endeavor disbelievingly. For the first time since training started, whispers floated around the room.

"Didn't they already fight? At U.A.'s school festival?"

"This is different this time. No Quirks are allowed."

"Potter's going to lose again. I know it."

The whispers got louder and louder until they were unmistakable with the pounding in his head. Slowly, he moved his limbs that felt like lead, and padded his way to the middle of the ring.

They were on good terms now, (hopefully) and there was no prize to be won. Maybe he'd get off easy.

Todoroki was strewn with lean muscle, transparent with the tank top that the boy wore, and was a good four centimeters taller than Harry. Fighting with Quirks and magic was one thing, but grappling with just his plain strength was almost like asking for black and blue to paint his body.

Harry sent Todoroki a wary smile, and slowly got into position.

"Begin!"

Harry barely had time to breathe before the boy in front of him disappeared. Twisting his body around, the wizard just barely managed to grab Todoroki's ankle before it was about to dig into the side of his skull. Narrowly catching the other ankle, Harry pivoted his feet and threw Todoroki off him, but stumbled when he broke away.

Charging again, he barely managed to evade another punch, and dropped down, sliding to the other end of the ring.

Their spar went like that for a while, but the longer they fought, the lighter Harry felt. It had come to a point where it was almost _fun_. They danced around each other, evaded punches and kicks and at one point, even a small smile reached Todoroki's lips.

"Boy!" Endeavor shouted, snapping Harry out of his focus. At this point—Todoroki's fist reached dangerously close to Harry's face until the taller boy forced himself to stop inches away. Losing feeling in his legs, he fell to the floor and his bottom roughly met the mat.

"Stop playing around!"

Their dynamic changed.

Harry didn't say anything. Todoroki didn't change his expression, but at that point they both had an understanding.

Endeavor's voice had boomed and Harry almost got hit in the face—in that moment the emotion in his eyes, when he looked up at Todoroki, was true, unadulterated fear.

Heart pounding, eyes unfocused, when Todoroki attempted to fix the situation up and charged at Harry again, his heart gripped. He was a startled deer, unable to think properly, and in a flight or fight state. Right when Todoroki was centimeters away, Harry's mind blanked out on instinct. He raised both of his arms in an X and shielded himself from the upcoming blow instead of dodging it. A blast of pure, raw magic spilled out of him like a tidal wave. It sent the other interns falling back in their seats, extinguished Endeavor's flames and Todoroki flew back until his back slammed against wall. Screams were filling the room and a sickening sound came from Todoroki's impact.

Harry's eyes flew open with a panic when he realized what he had done, and once the wind settled.

"Todoroki-kun!" he cried, about to run to the teen if it weren't for a large hand stopping him, halting him in his tracks.

"Halt. You're disqualified for using your Quirk." That hand slowly dropped and the fire around Endeavor started again. "Shoto!" he shouted to his, seemingly, unresponsive son. Todoroki laid at a heap on the ground, with his hair curtaining his eyes, and every second that he didn't move was a second of anxiety for Harry.

"Get up! You're fighting the next round too." Turning to Harry, Endeavor's expression soured even further. "Go to the locker rooms, Potter. You're excused for the rest of the day."

* * *

"Potter."

Harry's head snapped up from his seat on the bench, and he instantly straightened up at the sight of Todoroki.

"You waited for me?"

"Look, I'm sorry—" Harry tried to explain. He didn't know what came over him in that moment, in that release of unplanned magic.

At the sound of the large slam against the wall, a flinch streaked against his face and his sentence was cut off with his breath closing up in his throat. His heart jumped at the closeness of Todoroki, staring at him with intense eyes, and how close his palm was to hitting Harry across the head. Instead, Todoroki's left palm rested against the wall, not even five centimeters away from Harry's ear.

His chest constricted, and his eyes were blown wide with shock and slight fear.

After several seconds of the two of them not speaking a word to each other, Todoroki's hand slid off the wall and he stood back. Harry was able to breathe again with the space between then and before the wizard could demand an explanation, Todoroki looked down at his left hand.

"Sorry...I just wanted to make sure…."

"Make sure of what?" Harry asked, warily. There was a creeping feeling in his own body that was afraid of the answer.

"You...you were abused as a child," Todoroki muttered, eyes downcast.

For the first time since he arrived in Japan, Harry's body slowed in disbelief.

His breath hitched and he unconsciously took a shaky step back until his back hit the wall again.

"Wha— _What_?" were the only words that he could manage to stutter out. He'd expected Todoroki to be angry at him, maybe even give him a good punch or two for using his magic—and maybe at this point he'd prefer that. Not _this_.

Todoroki didn't say a word, and instead slowly raised his hand until it gently cupped the boy's large scar.

"I know this…" He didn't even look up to make eye contact with Harry. "Because...I was abused too."

Heart pounding, and hands sweating, Harry's instinct was only to run.

"I-I'm sorry…I have to go." Red and white hair snapped up, and Todoroki looked at Harry's retreating figure with shocked eyes.

Running off, Harry quickly apologized: both for using his magic on him unconsciously, and silently for avoiding the situation.

* * *

Todoroki never really saw him after that, but Harry had certainly seen him. He had to, because at every glance or peek of that red and white color, Harry walked the other direction.

It was cowardly, avoiding Todoroki like this, especially since he did nothing wrong, but the half-hot-half-cold boy was too close to the target for comfort. Especially since it was about a past that Harry didn't want anyone to uncover.

Hermione and Ron uncovered it after years of being with him, shoulder to shoulder, but they never openly spoke about it. They certainly knew about it; and it showed in the way they would talk bad about Durselys when the time came, or silently coddled him in their own way.

Izuku only knew what Harry was willing to tell him. The green-haired boy knew about the withheld food, yes, about the occasional shouts, and the bullying Dudley put him through when they were children, but he didn't really _know_. He only knew about that Mr. Midoriya made up for, not for the things Mr. Midoriya ignored. Not about the cupboard under the stairs, the threats Vernon gave him, the beatings he occasionally got, how he was a prisoner in the house.

With one simple fight—somehow Todoroki Shoto knew everything.

That was too close to his weakness and vulnerability for Harry to be comfortable.

He felt guilty; Shoto did nothing wrong per say, but he was planning on avoiding Shoto for the rest of this internship, and then it was back to blissful ignoring when they were in class.

"Potter," one of his superiors called out to him. They were nearing their internship, and now he could just relax while doing the mundane work that was handed to him. He looked up from the papers that he was currently organizing in front of him and blinked at her.

"Yeah?" he asked, head tilting in questioning.

"Endeavor-san went to Hosu with Shoto-kun, but he forgot his briefcase. Can you take the nearest train and give to him?" she asked.

Harry stood up with a wariness, knowing already that he had no say in the orders he received.

"Is it really that important?"

She nodded without looking at him and grabbed the silver briefcase beside her feet.

"He's taking his son out for patrol, but he's going to be at a meeting later. He'll need this."

Without waiting for another word, she dropped the briefcase in Harry's hands and a sigh left his body.

"Can't be helped," she spoke his mind, giving him one last glance before she left. Letting his eyes drop down to the silver case in his hands, he exhaled.

Why did he have the feeling that this trip to Hosu was going to be more trouble than it was worth?

* * *

 _A/N:_

For some reason this was an incredibly hard chapter to write...I've probably made at least four different versions of it.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

The trains in Japan were always silent, but in this train to Hosu one could hear a pin drop.

The only noise on the train was the gentle churning of the tracks and it was monotonous enough to lull him to sleep. It was late at night, and the train was full of businessmen and women who had just gotten off their jobs, and a lethargic air filled the train like a disease as they all fell asleep one by one. As the train gently rocked on the tracks, Harry had a hard time keeping his eyelids open.

Knowing that he would be coming back to the hotel late, he just hoped that he left the window open for Hedwig.

Three quarters of the way to the station, the train suddenly stopped. The skid against the railway made Harry jolt awake and the volume in the room raised with the forward and back pull. The people surrounding him instantly started to question the pause or exclaimed, but the Boy-Who-lived yawned in place before turning in his seat.

The people around him muttered as well, talking amongt themselves before pulling out their phones to check the time.

" _Everyone please remain calm_ ," the soft voice overhead said. " _We have received information that Hosu City is currently under attack and so the Pro-Heroes have decided that it would be best for the civilians to remain out of the way. The train will resume shortly, and we will issue out apologies soon._ "

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, and a small frown turned his lips downward. Turning in his seat, he looked at the front and back of his railway carriage, before making up his mind. He grabbed the briefcase and made his way to the conductor.

"Excuse me—" His knock fell short when the automatic doors slid open.

"Ah," the conductor turned in his seat and Harry's eyes fell to the tablet in the man's hand. " _Do you need any help?_ " the conductor asked in English.

His words fell into one ear and out the other like rushing water. Ignoring the rest of the man's words, Harry ran up to the tablet and took a knee next to the conductor. The tablet screen lit up his face and blew open his iris, but the news cast of the issue in Hosu couldn't be mistaken. Among the screams, the news anchor, and the crackling of the fire that rang from the tablet, there was one figure that stood out above them all.

His heart dropped to his stomach.

"Nomus…" Harry whispered, his voice lifting with realization. Lifting his eyes up to the conductor, he mentally slapped away his shock, and composed himself.

"Can these train doors still open?" he immediately asked, voice determined.

"Y-Yes, but we are all required to—" Harry didn't waste any time and leaned over the conductor's controls to open up the train doors. When Harry turned around to leave, the conductor spun around his chair in a panic.

"W-Wait! You can't leave! It's dangerous out there!"

Harry paused in front of the door, but his messy hair shadowed his eyes.

"Don't worry," the Gryffindor said. Turning to the conductor, the older man gasped when he realized that there was no trace of fear in the teenager's face. "I'm going to help."

Then, he jumped.

* * *

It was quite a way to run to the eye of the storm; the train had stopped at a good distance away to keep the civilians safe, but that only meant more running for Harry. By the time he reached the town center he was always sweaty, out of breath, and weak-kneed.

But Todoroki was here, and that meant he needed help.

While everyone around him was running away from the danger, he used this as a guide to lead him to the danger.

When the spaces between the abandoned cars, fires, and destroyed buildings got closer Harry pumped his legs with more speed and pushed himself to go faster. His lungs burned and his muscles screamed with overuse, but that just forced himself to go faster.

It was finally in the center of all the chaos that he finally found who he was looking for. Camouflaged by all the fire around him, Endeavor blended into the hellish picture with the flames that came off him.

"Endeavor!" Harry shouted, dashing toward the Pro.

Turning around, Endeavor's eyes widened at the sight of Potter Harry, sweaty and worse for wear as the boy swung his briefcase at him in a throw. The Pro didn't have to hold up anything more than a single hand to catch the briefcase, but his face still held that disbelief.

"You….What are you doing here?!" Endeavor asked in an enraged shout.

Harry ignored the Pro's words as his mind was set on one goal. "Give me permission to use my Quirk and to fight!" Then he wouldn't have to deal with Pros trying to get him to stop, or deal with using his "Quirk" outside of school.

" _What?!_ " Endeavor sputtered at the wizard's nerve.

"I said give me permission to use my Quirk!" Harry repeated, and with the fire that reflected on his green eyes, they both knew that there was no changing his mind. Harry wasn't asking a question; it was a demand.

But he was out of breath, dressed in a plain green t-shirt, khaki pants, and ratty sneakers with no hero costume in sight. Either Potter Harry was extremely brave or extremely stupid to willingly jump into the fray in this state. After a long battle done through eye contact, Endeavor finally gave in.

" _Fine_ ," the Hero spat, "but if you get hurt, or cause me any trouble in any way, that's all on _you_."

Harry nodded with a weary exhale and ran off again without waiting for another word to reach the Hero's lips.

He was running down the streets again, eyes darting back and forth to find anyone in danger in this deserted street, and for his one target.

 _There was a Nomu at the bottom of Endeavor's feet. In the news there was at least two spotted._ Running even faster, he dashed down the street. _Meaning that there's at least one out there!_

A street and a half away, he found his target. The Nomu had wings like a pterodactyl, and was carrying Heroes and dropping them like flies. Heroes fluttered around it like hummingbirds, but was taken down just as fast as they came. Nomu easily caught them like flies and threw them as easily as rag dolls.

When the last Hero was knocked over like a domino, Harry was snapped out of his stupor and raced to the center of the chaos.

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing its attention and waving his arms like a beacon. " _Stupefy_!" Harry cast, his hand outstretched. Just as he thought, the red light bounced off the back of Nomu with no more impact than a push. _Tough like dragon skin_ , he thought, lowering his hand.

But now that he got his suspicions confirmed, came his next issue: the Nomu had all of its attention on him now.

"Damn!" he cursed, immediately turning around and breaking into a run. But fate was not on his side; Nomu had enhanced speed, and while he was faster than most, he was also worn out; he wouldn't last a second. Stopping in his tracks, he knew it was fruitless if he just continued running. He spun in his heels and faced the Nomu head on.

It was nearing, closer and closer until he could feel the pull of the air and the space between them, but Harry was ready this time. Wand brandished, and feet apart he waited for the impact.

" _Incarcerous!_ " Ropes came out the end of his wand and snapped around the Nomu's arms and wings as fast as a whip. The beast was brought down like a netted bird, and strangled cries fell out of its mouth like nails on a chalkboard. His face scrunched up as he felt his eardrums vibrating with the sound and it created a wave of pain around his head. With enhanced strength he knew that the ropes wouldn't hold it for long, but those were quick seconds that he was hoping to buy.

He ran up, and leaped forward.

 _Just like every magical creature, there should be one weak spot…!_

The ropes burst into shreds not even a second after.

His next move was immediately out the window. Nomu's hand shot out at Harry's throat automatically, the large paw was large enough to easily grasp his neck without any trouble at all. He gasped and struggling sounds escaped his lips as he suffocated, nothing more than a ragdoll in Nomu's hand. His feet kicked in the air as he was being lifted up and his tinier hands attempted to wrap around Nomu's larger fingers to pry him off with no hope at all. The seconds ticked away as he was in Nomu's grasp, but they passed as languidly as sand in an hourglass.

A full minute passed, and his clawing hands dropped as he grew weak and light-headed, unable to think as he lost air.

His body slacked in Nomu's hold. When the creature seemingly lessened the hold, fingers curled around his wand, and bright green eyes flew open with a burning energy.

That holly wood wand was jammed into Nomu's right eye and the creature shouted into the air, dropping Harry. He fell forcefully on his bottom, but yanked the wand out of the socket just as he went down. As his bottom forcefully collided with the concrete, he knocked out what air he had left in his lungs, and heaved his chest desperately for air. He forced himself to regain just a fraction of his air to function before he was up again.

" _Episkey…!_ " his voice rasped out, sounding broken like a chainsmoker. His wand was at his neck in a second, fixing the blooming bruise on his neck. The magic sent a tingling sensation to his neck, spreading the pain before cooling it and clearing his head. Harry leaped back just in time for the next assault and skid his shoes against the pavement as he landed.

That one weak spot—!

Nomu ran forward, shaking the ground with its heavy movements as revenge fueled the blood pumping in its veins. Harry's eyes were narrowed and his wand was out.

" _Arresto Momentum!"_

 _The eyes!_

It was like watching a video being played in slow motion before his eyes.

Now that Nomu moved at the speed of a normal human, Harry had a chance of fighting it.

He dashed forward again, speedily tiptoeing around Nomu with the martial arts skills that he learned at Endeavor's not even a week ago. He maneuvered around the monster, dodging punches and attempts at grabbing him by turning his body or tucking and rolling out of the way.

Even though Nomu moved much slower now and Nomu was nothing intelligent, Harry was still outclassed. Nomu still had its crippling strength, and amazing height, and Harry wasn't experienced enough to make up the difference. Every spell he cast harmlessly bounced off Nomu's thick skin. Nomu couldn't see through Harry's fakes, or think at Harry's level, but always managed to stop Harry through sheer force.

He had to do something else, and think fast. At this rate he would only succeed in tiring himself out. The weariness in his bones and his mind was already overtaking him and slowing his steps, making up for the speed he took away from Nomu.

Conjuring Hermione and Ron's mindset, he pivoted his feet and ran down the street as fast as he could.

Hearing another screech and the beat of wind, he didn't have to turn around to know that Nomu had taken flight after him.

His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, layered on by the exhaustion he felt and the gas fires around him. His lungs constricted with every breath he took, and his legs wanted to collapse after every stop, but he couldn't stop here. Eyes darting, Harry looked up and up until he spotted several fire escapes.

Destination in sight, determination in his eyes, and deliberation in his mind, Harry Potter disappeared with a _crack!_

* * *

Nomu's flight slowed to a crawl when it can't spot a single hide or hair of Harry Potter anywhere in sight. The monster slowly landed on the ground where his scent last was before it seemingly disappeared off the grid. There was no wind, no movement.

Grotesque, large eyes scan the deserted street, but nothing appeared.

It took a couple steps forward in hesitancy, truly looking like a predator, a creature out in the wild. Nomu seemingly gave up, and when those two wings raise to prepare for flight once more, Harry Potter showed himself for the last time in that Nomu's life.

* * *

With a big push, his feet simultaneously left the metal railings as he jumped off the fourth floor fire escape. He leaped with no fear and determination, and came down with fury and might painted on his face. His leap wasn't calculated, but he managed to fall right on Nomu's shoulders, both legs right around the large head, and thighs pressed against the tough muscle.

His left hand immediately thread around the exposed, wet brain, gripping with no hope of letting go to hold it in place, while his wand is out and exposed. He dug his wand deep into the brain and grasped the wood tight. Nomu screeched loudly, moving around and attempting to buckle Harry off like an enraged bull, but he had enough practice from Quidditch to hold on. Harry scrunched his face up at the vibrating volume of the voice that could burst his eardrum, but he continued to sit on its shoulders. Nomu's reaction time is slowed considerably due to the Arresto Momentum the wizard used on him, and Harry gratefully used up every second.

The Nomu that Endeavor killed had its head burnt to a crisp, and hopefully, Harry's plan would work just as well. That—or it would backfire horribly.

He managed to apparate successfully, so he hoped, and counted his next miracle.

" _Confringo_!"

In a heartbeat, a fiery, orange light appeared and suddenly a shower of blood splashed right across Harry's face, clothes and hair. Nomu's head exploded like a firework. There was a gaping hole where the head used to be, and Harry willed himself not to look down at the neck. There is a delayed couple of seconds before the body reacted to the missing head, and slackened underneath Harry like a robot winding down. The body tumbled down slowly, reaching the ground head first, and Harry landed back on his feet with no trouble at all, as if he was taking steps off a staircase.

Harry caught his breath and inhaled. With a big heave, he leaned against the wall of the building, letting the exhaustion of the run, and the rush of the spell and the kill to finally reach him like an oncoming train. His knees buckled underneath him and he slid down the side of the brick wall. A big exhale escaped his lips once his bottom finally reached the asphalt beside the body of Nomu.

He retrieved his wand and groaned at the sight of the murky, viscous residue left on the tip of the wood before shaking it off and wiping off the rest. He slumped his shoulders, and observed the empty street.

Wind picked up loose litter and faraway fire crackled like broken crackers and crunching dead leaves. It was completely silent otherwise.

It was a while before he moved again, experimentally twitching his feet in his worn-out sneakers and rolling his shoulders. He slumped his shoulders and pulled out his cellphone to see if there was any more news in the area worth his attention. He couldn't just stay here for the rest of the night, not even if he wanted to.

His phone turned on, and a tiny " _Ping!_ " comes from a notification on his screen.

Knitting his eyebrows, there was a pause of realization once he opened the notification.

In no time at all, Harry Potter was up on his feet and dashing down the street again.

Izuku was in Hosu too.

* * *

"Izuku!" The shout rang across the alleyway even as the figure went on, and all of the fights paused to turn the attention toward him.

Harry appeared from around the corner with loud stomping feet and pants, but looked no worse for wear. The fire that Todoroki let out illuminated the sweat across Harry's skin, and lights up the green in his eyes.

"Harry!" Izuku cried, sitting against a wall with a large, bleeding cut across his calf.

"Todoroki-kun!" Harry turned toward the fiery teen, in surprise. "Iida-kun?!" His class president was laying in a pool of his own blood.

His head snapped toward the villain, (because who else could he be?), a man dressed in red and tan rags with a shallow, flat face and a chipped, rusty sword. Harry's appearance was startling, but the villain was smarter than that to focus on another kid added to the list of opponents. In that second when everyone had their heads turned toward Harry's arrival Todoroki left an opening. Hero Killer: Stain took the opening and charged forward, slashing the hot and cold teenager right across the chest. It was a thin cut, but blood still spilled like an arc, coming out from the rip in his costume and his skin in a quick second.

All of the U.A. students cried out in surprise and pain as Todoroki falls to his bottom and was instantly paralyzed when that blood reached Stain's lips.

"Harry!" Izuku attempted to cry, reaching out for the wizard, but fell forward when his legs fail him. Izuku reached an arm out. "What's your blood type?!"

"My blood type?!" Harry cried out, incredulous. His head raced with confusion just as fast as the villain that was charging at him. "I dunno—Half?!"

Harry held up both forearms to shield him and swung his wand arm just as a strongly placed Protego charm shielded the sharp sword that was about to be brought down on him.

"His Quirk uses people's blood to keep them from moving!" Izuku shouted. "The difference in effectiveness is based on people's blood type!"

"But I don't know my blood type!" Harry cried out, just barely able to dodge the sword by a hair.

"You go to school with the rest of these kids?" the villain asked, voice low and gravely, getting too close for comfort. At this distance, Harry can see the depth of his eyes underneath that ratty scarf he had tied around his head.

" _Stupefy!_ " He practically missed Stain by a mile, and the spell bounced across a streak of Todoroki's ice, shattering the surface.

"Those schools and their students will never be anything but fakes that are filled with selfish desires!" Red eyes widened with killing intent.

The Gryffindor stumbled backward to force some space between then before he could make his next move.

Harry had a wide arsenal of spells literally up his sleeves, and all kinds of defence and offence that he could use against Stain, but he was stuck. With an injured Pro in the corner, and his three classmates scattered around the alleyway, there were too many witnesses around for him to be able to reach his full potential. He couldn't conjure a flock of birds or string Stain up by the ankles without being questioned. This was life or death, he tried to reason, but if he was taken to Azkaban, that would mean his life too.

Stain rushed forward, and Harry prepared himself for the counterattack. In the background, he could hear Todoroki yell out Iida's name, but no other words were heard.

He waved his wand arm in a flurry, and lights from every end of the rainbow spilled out of his hand as he pulled out spell after spell. Stain was able to easily dodge or maneuver past all almost all of his spells, narrowly avoiding them with a speed Harry was barely able to match.

"Idiot!" the unnamed Pro Hero finally called out to Harry as he managed to throw Stain back with a well-casted Stupefy. "The Hero Killer is after me and the kid in the white armor! You're the only one not injured! Don't fight back! You can run away!"

Harry's lungs were burning, his feet were heavy with exhaustion and blisters, and every bone in his body wanted to just collapse; but Harry Potter would fight tooth and nail before he'd willingly give up.

The Trip Jinx slipped out of Harry's wand arm and right when Stain attempted to regain his footing, Harry gained the other hand.

He pushed forward with every spell he could use, waving his arms for spell after spell as he overpowered Stain and pushed the villain back to create a distance between them.

He didn't know what Stain really wanted, wasn't here for the full weight of Stain's speech, but he could make a couple of guesses. Stain wanted to take down the Heroes who were here for the fame and for the money. But Harry was not a Hero; he was just some guy who did his best.

"Even if assholes like Endeavor ruin the Heroes' name…! Or if people like you turn them to fear…!" Harry grit through his teeth, staring down at Stain. The injured Pro lifted up his head in shock, knowing that this delayed answer was directed at both him and Stain. "I'd _never_ turn my back on people who need me!"

 _Expelliarmus!_

That bright red light burst out of the end of his arm, and hit the Hero Killer's sword head on. The sword flew out of Stain's hand, spinning in the air before it landed on the ground, handle up.

Both of them turned their eyes to the sword, and Harry held back the urge to cry out in victory. Then in that moment of stupidly letting his guard down, he forgot that he created an opening. Stain pulled out a smaller knife, and threw it forward.

"Harry, no!" Izuku shouted.

"Gah!" Harry shouted, falling on his knee when his limbs gave out. His right hand twitched above the knife that was deep in his left shoulder, and he grinded his teeth from the pain. Blood seeped into his torn sleeve and trickled out. From the corner of his eye, he could see Todoroki and Iida crouch closer to one another and his chest felt lighter with the idea that the two of them could get away.

 _But where is Izuku—?_

In lightning speed, Stain was in front of him within a blink. Hovering above him like a dark cloud. The Hero Killer easily pounded Harry's head and torso to the ground, making another cry escape from the wizard's lips. His head spun with the rough contact the back of his skull made with the asphalt, enough to rattle his vision and made pain spread all throughout his head.

"You're an interesting one…" Stain muttered, yanking that knife out of Harry's shoulder, releasing another scream from the boy. Blood was flowing like a river now, running down his arms in sticky, warm rivulets. He showed the same promise as the other boy, the kind of selflessness that Stain could admire. "You might deserve to live…" the villain muttered, leaning down to lick a bead of his blood.

"Get away…!" a voice from the back of his mind growled. There was a charging sound, like fuel being filled, and the sound only amplified by the second. Those black spots that were sprinkling around his vision earlier were full on patches now, blinding him from every corner. His eyelids slowly grew heavier and heavier. His breath slowed from his heavy pants to easy inhales. " _From my big brother!_ "

"Iida, now!"

"Recipro...Extend!"

"...Full Cowling!"

"Go!"

Harry Potter...lost consciousness.

* * *

There were four beds in the hospital room they were at, tucked in every corner; each with a set of tables and a curtain for privacy. A giant window was at the end of the room that allowed bright, white light to brighten up the room early in the morning. Even though all of the beds were occupied, only three of the boys were sitting up, donned in bandages, casts, and hospital gowns.

The silence in the room was heavy, and while it was morning, all of the conscious boys took extra care to be quiet.

"Were you able to sleep, Midoriya?" Iida whispered to the bed across from his.

"No…" Izuku stretched his legs and slouched forward. "Not really…."

"Yeah, me neither."

That silence crawled on after that until they had nothing else to do but gaze on at the slumbering figure in bed.

Right when they were being taken to the hospital, Hedwig swooped down in a fury of feathers and shrieks. She immediately attacked all of the hospital staff that was attempting to take Harry away. She bared her talons at everyone, but was speedy enough to dodge every grappling hand that reached out to grab her.

Izuku was in a panic, attempting to soothe the hospital employees and the owl with cries of, "No, don't hurt her! That's his owl!" or "She's normally not this hostile!" and "Hedowigu-san, please stop!"

The workers and Pros finally backed off Harry's unconscious body, she immediately dove to him, landing on his arm, and working to get off his forearm brace with her talons and beak.

Izuku was near tears at this point, emotional from seeing Harry so injured and the appearance of his owl being violent was just tipping him over the edge. He had gotten close with, "Hedowigu-san! Please! You're just going to hurt him even more!"

Once she gotten the last buckle off with a light clicking sound, she pulled the brace free and flew off with it, disappearing for what they thought was the rest of the night. Her behavior was strange, but the hospital staff immediately pushed that to the back of their mind to give Harry the help he needed.

He had some light bruising along his throat, his stab wound, and a concussion, but, "What he needs is rest," the doctor assured.

They wrapped him in bandages and changed him before placing him in bed for the rest of the night. Every boy entered the room one after the other after that.

Hedwig ended up returning around one in the morning, tapping on the window of the boy's room with her beak and jolting Iida awake.

They were apprehensive after her show earlier, but she was the image of a model pet now, and Harry would've wanted them to let her in.

She didn't make any more noise in the night, didn't fly or swoop around their room. She flew immediately to Harry's unconscious body with the forearm brace nowhere in sight and nibbled on his ear slightly. He didn't respond, but it seemed good enough for her, and she hopped along to his nightstand to curl her head underneath a wing and go to sleep.

She had left earlier to go hunting, and now it was just the four boys.

"Thinking about it...we did something amazing, huh?" Izuku's voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Seeing an ending like that...really makes you feel like it's a miracle that we're alive."

Iida nodded in agreement, and the three boys continued to chatter a little bit more before the door of their room slid open.

"Oi, are you wounded kids awake yet?" In came a short and stout old man with grey hair and a yellow and white costume.

"Gran Torino!" Izuku gasped, his green eyes lighting up at the sight of the cranky Pro.

"Manuel…." Iida whispered, expression twisting at the sight of the blue-clad Hero. His fingers instinctively reached for his covers and gripped them tight until his knuckles were white.

"Kid, I've got a lot of complaints for you!" Gran Torino, the Pro (who was still in prime, thank you!) said, stomping up to Izuku's bedside.

"O-Oh! I'm s-sorry—!" Izuku immediately stuttered.

"But before that, you have a visitor."

Everyone turned to the door and the three boys dropped their jaws.

"Hosu's chief of police, Tsuragame Kenji-san."

* * *

Stain was knocked out by the combo of Izuku's, Iida's, and Todoroki's Quirk, sending the villain flying to the icicles that Todoroki had left strewn all over the building walls. They had him tied up and escorted out by other Pros while Izuku and Iida both carried Harry's unconscious out.

In the middle of the street Endeavor came jogging down, and Stain jumped to life again, emitting such powerful killing intent that it sent nearly all of them to their knees. However, midway through his passionate speech, he blacked out standing up.

It was enough to make anyone lose their sleep.

Now, in their hospital room the U.A. students had another obstacle to counter. Tsuragame was a tall, muscular man with a dog's head, and ended every single one of his sentences with an, "Arf."

He spoke about Stain's current conditions, but then he tiptoed the conversation to Quirks. From the rise of Heroes to severity of using ones Quirk in public.

They didn't receive any orders by their Pros to go out and take down Stain, and because of that they must be punished for breaking the rules.

Todoroki's temper snapped not long after he heard that, standing his ground that rules or not Heroes were supposed to help people.

Tsuragame didn't flinch even though Todoroki was held back, and went on to say his next proposition. They would not be punished, so long that they say that Endeavor was the one who took down Hero Killer: Stain. They would not receive any fame or acknowledgement for their achievements, but they wouldn't be in trouble with the law either. Their acceptance was obvious, and Izuku, Iida, and Todoroki gratefully bowed to the police chief.

To which the dogged-man returned one grateful bow back.

For protecting the peace.

* * *

Harry woke up around midday with a throbbing skull, a sore throat, and aching muscles, but he was alive, and that's what mattered.

Izuku immediately charged toward his bed with a large shout and the two followed with the energy of teenage boys.

"A-Ah! Harry-kun! You're finally awake!"

"How long was I asleep?" he winced at the sound of his own voice, feeling like he had just swallowed sandpaper. His tongue was dry and his throat was chalky. Iida held out a glass of water and he took it with a thanks.

"Fifteen hours," Izuku answered, and in the background Harry saw Todoroki gently press the button that alerted the nurse. "How are you feeling? A-Are you hurt anywhere? You scared us so much!"

"I'm mostly sore really…." Harry responded, chuckling slightly as he sat up. He looked around him and it didn't take much thinking to figure out that he was in a hospital. "What happened after I blacked out?"

Iida and Izuku were more than happy to run off on a chatterfest about the aftermath of Stain, their voices running into one another until it was one big murmur of words. Harry had to ask them to repeat themselves more than once.

They started off with Stain, his anger at seeing Endeavor, his speech and his deadly aura, and how he knocked himself out not long after. Izuku told him about Hedwig and her strange behavior, and while the boy was stressed out just talking about it, Harry internally felt relieved.

She must've realized that he wasn't coming home that night and tracked him down all the way in Hosu. Hedwig knew that he hid his wand in his arm brace when he was wearing short sleeves, and saved him a load of trouble by taking her wand away before the hospital staff could find it. He'd have to remember to thank her with food and pets later.

When Izuku asked him if he knew what Hedwig acted like that, Harry just said that she must've been stressed out because he wasn't at the hotel yet. Izuku knew that it was a lackluster explanation, but took it silently anyway.

The class president then filled him out on the next part.

They were supposed to be in trouble for using their Quirks, but as long as Harry said that Endeavor was the one who took down Stain, they wouldn't get any repercussions at all. Harry could accept that; and more than took it with open arms when he realized that he wasn't going to be on the news again. If Endeavor took the credit, then his name would be avoided. Plain and simple.

"But…" Iida started out, holding his hand up to his chin in thought, "Tsuragame-san said that you were the only one who would be let off easily, because you asked Endeavor-san for permission to use your Quirk."

"Huh?" Harry perked up at that, and it took a while for his fogged mind to remember that memory of him shouting at the flaming man for permission. "Oh, yeah...! I just remembered that it was the right thing to do, because I got in trouble a while back for using my Quirk…." That was how he got into U.A. after all. His mind was in a rush at that moment, but he remembered to do that at least.

"What an responsible thing to do!" Iida commented, pushing up his glasses. "Still, you were not cautious at all! You just ran into the fight with no hero costume at all!"

"I can say the same to you all for being reckless!" Harry exclaimed. His eyes turned from Iida to Todoroki, and then to the worried, but relieved face of Izuku.

"Especially you," he said, pointedly at Izuku.

He pointed at himself with his scarred hand. "M-Me?!"

Harry nodded with an, "Mhm...little brother." His face widened with a smile.

Izuku burst into a bright red and stuttered and steamed so much that they thought that he was going to pass out on the spot.

* * *

"I'm just going out to use the bathroom," Harry assured, his body already out the door, even when his head peeked inside his shared hospital room to reassure the rest of the boys.

"Are you sure you don't need any assistance?" Iida asked with a wave of his hands, his voice as firm as an announcer.

"I'm positive." Harry nodded, a bit exasperatedly, even if a small smile was painted on his face. "My legs work just fine. I'm just not comfortable using bedpans. I'll be back before you know it." With that, he slid the door closed and paused. He sighed to himself, raising and lifting his shoulder as he exhaled in the shadowed silence of the empty hallway.

Composing himself, he tiptoed down the hall, and turned the corner before he bumped into a black-clad chest.

"Sorry 'bout that—Aizawa-sensei!" Harry stumbled back before gasping at his homeroom teacher. The Pro's face was straight-laced, and Harry never realized that his teacher was so tall before, not before he towered over Harry at this close proximity. Black eyes bore down on him with such intensity that Harry could feel the hair on his arms getting raised and the pit of his stomach churning.

He straightened himself up. "Are you here to see us? The rest of the boys are in the—" He pointed down the hallway with his thumb.

"No," Aizawa interrupted, and his voice felt cold. Harry wasn't sure if it was his fading concussion, but he felt like he was on another side of Aizawa that he never wanted to see. Confusion fogged over his thoughts. "I'm here to see only you."

Harry's hand dropped, and that churning feeling in his stomach intensified. "M-Me? What do you want to say to me?"

"Potter," Aizawa said, and the Pro walked forward until Harry was backed into the empty hallway again. Out of sight for everyone to see. The Pro briefly asked if Harry would like to sit down, but the wizard firmly shook his head. Things were silent for a while before those black eyes were on him again. "Endeavor told me that you killed a Nomu."

"I did," Harry confirmed. "Was I not supposed to?"

"What you fought was a midtier Nomu. It was weaker than the one that All Might fought in U.S.J., but still would've been tough for the rest of your classmates to handle…. Do you feel any remorse at all?" his teacher went to say on next, confusing Harry further. He didn't know why Aizawa was here, or why he only wanted to see him, or was feeding him these cryptic messages when he should be in bed or in the bathroom. All he was doing was making Harry more and more dumbfounded as the seconds passed.

"Remorse?" Harry echoed. "No." He firmly shook his head. "It was a monster, and it was hurting everyone. Why should I—"

"All Nomus, at one point, were humans," Aizawa was doing nothing but interrupting Harry today, talking in strange riddles, and it was slowly filling up the small glass that contained every ounce of Harry's anger. "They were experimented on until they became... _that_." Harry's lower lip dropped sightly at this news and he furrowed his eyebrows next. "Does this information bother you in any way?" He was like a boy in an interrogation, and Aizawa looked like the policeman who wouldn't hesitate to dig a fist right into his face.

He searched inside of his mind and his chest, but he didn't feel anything at all. Maybe he should have. Maybe at one point in Harry's life it would have bothered him. But Quirrell was a human at one point, but Harry didn't feel regret over crumbling the man to dust with his bare hands when he was eleven. He didn't hesitate to stab that basilisk through the brain, and while he didn't want to kill Peter Pettigrew, a living, breathing, _real_ human, he was still young at that point.

Then Sirius died, and he wanted to kill Bellatrix Lestrange too.

"No," he breathed out, voice darkened as he attempted to contain his temper. He stared on, avoiding Aizawa's eyes and tightened his fists underneath his hospital gown. "Why should I feel guilty about something that tried to kill me?"

"...I thought so," Aizawa finally answered, almost with a sigh. As if Harry just confirmed every single thought he had.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Harry barked.

"Potter, I'm going to be honest with you," Aizawa said. His voice was tired, but Harry knew that there was no nonsense within that sharp tone. "I know about your affiliation with Black Sirius." Harry's head shot right up at lightning speed with eyes as wide as plates. "Black Sirius had a special, destructive Quirk that managed to kill thirteen people in one night with no trouble at all. I know that your Quirk is just like his—if not, the exact same. Black was a villain, and I'm not sure what your connection to him is, but if you're just like him..."

Black hair raised slightly at the ends and black eyes blazed into bright red. He backed up into Harry until he was nearly against the wall, and he could see every red vein in the man's dry eyes.

"I'm telling you this now, Potter Harry, so you know that I'm onto you and whatever you do. I don't know what your intentions are, and I know that you aren't just going to freely admit to what I just said. But know that if you had planned to hurt U.A. or any of my students—I won't hesitate to take you down too."

. . .

Izuku went out into the hall an hour later to look for Harry because he was taking too long, and he found the wizard on a bench, shaking with rage.

* * *

 _ **Omake:**_

"Until I become a Hero...I think I want to leave my left hand as it is," Iida confirmed, staring down at his cast with determination. Harry's head was racing with magical ways of curing nerve damage, but when Iida said that, he had to pause in surprise.

"Iida…." Todoroki mumbled.

Izuku held up his own scarred hand. "Iida-kun, I feel the same way." He clenched his fist. "Let's become stronger...together!" There was a silence, and they both nodded at each other as a new promise was made.

"I feel...kind of bad…." Todoroki spoke up, looking down at his own hands. Harry's hand paused in the middle of preening Hedwig.

"Huh?" the wizard asked. "Why?"

"I feel like if I get involved…" the multi-colored boy muttered, "other people mess up their hands."

Harry froze when he remembered his splinch.

"Is it a curse?" Todoroki asked next, overly serious. It looked like he was having an inner crisis.

In no time at all, Harry, Iida, and Izuku all burst into laughter.

"Todoroki-kun," Izuku said between laughs, "I didn't know what you could make jokes!"

"No, I'm not joking," Todoroki insisted. "It's like I'm 'The Hand Crusher' or something...!"

"' _The Hand Crusher!'_ " 

* * *

**_A/N:_**

The entire time I was writing the fight scenes I couldn't help but think of Harry saving Gabrielle in the fourth book. I dunno, that sort of "I'll help her without wanting anything in return" thing is what I think Stain would really admire in Harry.

Aizawa freely told Harry that he was onto him half because he wants Harry to think twice about going through with any "evil" plans that he might have, and half because I think he would have a soft spot for Harry too, so there's a part of him that just hopes that he has it all wrong. Harry hasn't been a student for long, but there was that point in U.S.J. where Harry immediately ran up to Aizawa and asked him if he was alright, and that would've just screamed natural do-gooder to Aizawa.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

A pair of high heeled boots halted in the middle of the sidewalk.

The wind picked up immediately after, pushing past golden strands of hair and flicking them into her sapphire blue eyes. The figure tucked her face into the folds of her cashmere, pale cheeks turning a bright pink from the autumn cool.

The weather at this time in November was almost perfect. Wind easily brushed away red, orange, and yellow leaves, disposing them in the sidewalks and scattered around the sides of the park into a sea of warm colors. It wasn't too hot or too cold, and the sky still remained a beautiful, but pale blue. The wind settled and she dropped her scarf, huffing a bit before fixing her hair and adjusting her clothes before taking off again, one foot in front of the other.

A park stood on her right side, but it would be a while before it would be filled with senior citizens playing checkers or stragglers coming out to soak up the sun. This early in the morning and well into the weekdays, everyone was either at work or heading to school.

Vibrant blue eyes naturally landed the scenery before her and a large smile fell on her pink lips.

A handful of cars zipped passed her on the street and several school children dashed down the asphalt. Several stopped to stare every now and then—and the teenaged boys always lingered a bit longer—but that was to be expected, and she always gave them a large smile before they shyly ran off.

Breaking another gaze with two starstruck teenage boys across the street, she turned her head back to the center of the street.

"There you are!" a voice, rough with its high and low pitches of surprise, shouted. "I've been looking for you since you left the hotel!"

Brown hair slowly morphed into a blood red before their eyes.

"I found him." They locked eyes.

* * *

The classroom was alive with chatter about everyone's internships. After not seeing one another for one whole week, everyone was ecstatic to tell each other and react to what training they all went to, what action they saw, and so on.

"You guys should've seen her!" Kaminari's excitable voice rose through the sea of voices. The electric-charged boy quickly nudged a bouncing Mineta. "She was the prettiest woman I've ever seen—easily!" His voice ended with a swoon.

"Even prettier than... _Mt. Lady_ …!" Mineta's voice rose with excitement, but then instantly took a swan dive at the reminder of his horrible internship. The grape boy suddenly turned to Kaminari with the whites of his eyes engulfing all color. "Nevermind, Kaminari... Women are just demons from the outset—hiding their true selves!" He shook with cold tremors.

"Just what did you see at Mt. Lady's?!" Kaminari exclaimed, holding a hand out. Their group of boys all shouted in response, talking over one another until the volume rose and rose. "But enough talking about us!" the yellow-haired boy said. "The real transformation is…" The entire class turned to where Todoroki, Izuku, and Iida sat together. "You three!"

Class 1-A was in an uproar once more at Kaminari's call. Everyone was either shouting about how scary Stain was, or how glad they were that the boy managed to survive. Endeavor's amazing rescue sprinkled the conversation, and if anyone noticed that Todoroki's responses were lackluster, no one said anything.

Barely anyone noticed the door click and slide open.

"Everyone is really lively this morning," Harry Potter muttered, green eyes darting back and forth at the conversations jumping around the room. He closed the large door behind him and slid quietly into his seat beside a silent Tokoyami. "Good morning," Harry eventually greeted with a nod after they made eye contact.

"Good morning," the boy responded kindly, arms crossed. "It's unlike you to be this late."

"Ah, really?" Harry chuckled softly, dropping his messenger bag underneath his seat and flattening his bangs. "I overslept this morning. My friends back home were chewing me out all night when they realized that I was injured again."

"Right." He turned a beak toward Harry. "You were involved with the Stain incident as well. From what the news said you were the only one who was unconscious on the scene. I'm surprised that you're not resting."

"Life doesn't stop for anyone, I guess." The Boy-Who-Lived shrugged; it was never a part of him to sit still. He was restless, always on the move, and now that Madam Pomfrey wasn't here, she couldn't wrestle him back in bed. "How was your internship then?"

"Very informative," Tokoyami answered, almost with a contented lift in his voice as he nodded. "My mentor, Hawks, is an extremely capable Hero."

Harry hummed under his breath, and opened his mouth to reply, but Iida beat him to it.

"Now that class is almost upon us, everyone please take your seats!"

Tokoyami sighed beside Harry.

"So noisy…."

There was a smile on Harry's face that he couldn't help but beam.

* * *

"So handsome!" a voice next to him gushed. When Harry's head snapped to the side and saw nothing but a floating pair of gloves, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Uh…." He tilted his head. He dug from the back of his mind for an introduction from the invisible girl. "Hagakure-chan, right?" he asked uncertainty, but she didn't seem to mind—or at least he thought so.

"Yup!" she said cheerfully, those gloves lacing together. "You look so good in your costume, Potter-kun!" He couldn't help but think how strange it was looking _through_ someone as he was talking to them, and mentally wondered if Ron and Hermione every felt the same whenever he was under his cloak.

"Yeah!" another voice chimed in, and he saw a costumed Sero and Kirishima walking toward the both of them. "This is the first time I saw you in your costume!" Kirishima said, holding up a fist. "It looks different, but good! You'd get noticed for sure!"

Even though he sent in a sketch of his Quidditch robes, the people making the costume was sure to add their own flair. It looked more modern than the medieval style the wizards loved to stick to, but kept the same long robe, the blazing scarlet dye, and the sturdy brown forearm and shin pads.

 _That wasn't really my plan_ , Harry couldn't help but think, grimacing a bit. He knew that he always wanted to keep a low profile, within the shadows, but practically always managed to fling him into the burning sun with all the trouble chasing his tail.

"Thanks," he eventually said, "I think this is my first time wearing it too. It's a bit different than the costume I wore back home." He looked down and admired the way the light fabric moved around his arms, an unusual feeling compared to the thick leather that he usually wore. This was almost as light as his uniform robes, and deceivingly so.

"Really?" Sero asked, eyes wide. "You didn't wear it during your internship? Then what did you wear when you fought Stain?!" His voice was high with surprise and amazement, almost like Harry had just wrestled a dragon before his eyes.

"My jeans and a tee shirt," Harry said, more deadpan than he meant it to be.

"So manly!" Kirishima said, eyes bright, and the Boy-Who-Lived wondered if the red-head casted a spell because he could practically see the Great Wave crashing behind him. "You're right! The costume doesn't make the Hero!"

Not the kind of message he was trying to send; if he even was trying to send any message at all, but he'll take it. _He's kinda like a puppy_ , Harry thought, looking at Kirishima as if he had never seen the boy before. _Or a Gryffindor._

"So this _isn't_ your original costume?" Sero finally asked. "You must feel so uncomfortable in this new one then!"

"Yeah," Harry said, and he couldn't help but drift his mind to the robes that were hanging back in the locker rooms underneath the Quidditch pitch. His voice unconsciously grew soft and fond as his eyes fell on his brown boots. "I had a lot of great moments in that costume."

As his mind continued to jump from memory to memory, of all the Quidditch games to the familiar, cozy parts of Hogwarts, his heart grew steadily heavier and heavier.

"A-Ah! Harry-kun!" a voice called, and they all turned to the worn-out Midoriya that was running toward them. Harry silently waved bye to the boys and met Izuku half-way.

"I forgot that you don't change in the locker room, and I was waiting for you this entire time!" Izuku said, slightly out of breath. Every step he took made his green hair bounce.

"Oh, sorry." Harry said, voice sincere as his eyes fell on the top of Izuku's fluffy hair. "I should've waited—"

"It's alright!" he quickly said. "It's my mistake anyway!" Iida's exuberant voice floated toward them from the front of the crowd and they all started to make their way to the training field. "And you're finally wearing your Hero Costume!" Izuku sounded more excited for Harry than he was.

Harry looked down at his clothes and admired the swish against his ankles for a second. "Yeah," he said. _A lot of people are invested in the costumes here_ , he thought.

"The concept is strange, but not bad!" Midoriya muttered as they fell in step beside each other. "The style is more different than we're used to, and maybe that's a cultural difference, but here in Japan we'd usually get a more sleek look. If your costume is made out of durable material though, maybe the extra fabric would be used as extra protection, and that can't be a bad thing. With the laces on your jacket it would be easier for you to take off during rescue situations, thinking that the victim would need the extra layer—" His words ran into each other and his voice dipped lower and lower as he continued to mutter under his breath. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the resemblance between Hisashi and Izuku.

 _They really are father and son._

"A-Anyway," Izuku cleared his throat, "my mom wanted to invite you to dinner with us today. She's making eggplant stir-fry! I-If you're not busy!"

Harry grinned, and he forgot all about his nostalgia and homesickness.

"I'm never too busy for you...Otouto," Harry affectionately called. Izuku yelped and hid his face behind his hands as his cheeks and ears burned a bright red.

* * *

"It's a rescue training race!" All Might shouted, finger up in the air as his voice was exuberant as always. They still outside a large cement wall with a heavy case metal door that towered over all of them easily. The crowd of them stayed huddled in front of the Pro Hero, but anywhere else was complete silence and stillness.

Iida's hand was up in the air in a second. "If it's not rescue training, then should it not be carried out at USJ?!"

"Oh my god, oh my god," Izuku squealed beside Harry, "it's his Golden Age costume!" Harry's lips grimaced for a second when he saw a bit of Colin Creevey in him.

 _The costumes look the same to me…_ he thought.

"No," All Might answered, all smiles and energy as he answered Iida's question, "that is for _disaster_ rescue. Now, what was I saying—Ah, yes! A race!" He moved to open the doors and waved to the beyond. "This is training ground Gamma!" Everyone in Class 1-A shifted and leaned in to see more.

It looked like a muggle electricity plant or power station to him. It was cramped with the same khaki-colored containment structures, buildings, and the entire thing was laced and threaded with power lines and pipes.

"Where densely packed lanes make this construction site seem more like a complex labyrinth!" _So it was a construction site?_ "Make four groups of five! We will do the training at one group at a time! When I've given the distress signal, you all will start simultaneously from the outside limits! This is a competition to see who can come to my aid first! But keep the property damage to a minimum, please!"

"Why are you pointing at me…?" Bakugou growled lowly, flinching back at All Might's stares like an enraged dog. Harry wasn't there for the Heroes vs. Villains simulation that they had at the beginning of the school year like Izuku told him, but it didn't take Merlin to figure out that Bakugou was just as explosive as his Quirk, and that meant a lot of collateral damage for the school.

"Staring group, take your positions! Everyone else, sit still and watch them from this screen here!" All Might sent them another cheery smile before he took off with a powerful jump.

"I guess that's me…!" Izuku said before he waved to Harry and left.

Harry nodded and took a seat beside Momo, eyes trained on the screen. His mind slowly churned at how he was going to maneuver through a field like that without running on the floor while everyone else took to the pipes above. He didn't have his broom—so zipping to All Might through the air was out of the question. He couldn't use apparition since he wouldn't be able to _see_ All Might and he wasn't partial to leaving his legs behind.

He lifted his head up.

He was able to do it successfully that one time.

When he was up against Nomu he was on a one-track mind as the monster chased him down. Dodge. Run. Apparate. Survive.

That last one factor gave him all the determination and deliberation that he ever needed. It was a success in his books, but now he had to practice it with a clear head to see if he can get the same results every time.

"Who do you think is going to win, Potter-chan?" a voice beside him croaked. He was jolted out of his thoughts and turned his head to look at Tsuyu.

"Hm? Oh!" Harry turned his head back to the screen and disheartenedly realized that he already missed half of the race while he was deep in his thoughts. Sero was like Tarzan with his tapes, swinging and flicking through the pipes like he was having no trouble at all. Ashido slid on the pipes with her acid, but there was a limit to her speed when she wasn't actively pushing against the wind resistance and the friction. Ojiro was physically strong, maybe in an arm wrestle against all of them he would win, but he was never the fastest. On a normal day he would vote for Iida, but he was still recovering.

Izuku, however, was a blazing beam of energy that zipped past pipes and lines in a blink of an eye. He was the only one not surprised by Izuku pulling toward the front of the race. They had exchanged multiple texts and emails throughout their internships and always updated the other whenever they made progress on their training.

"I think Izuku is going to win," Harry said firmly.

"Tch," a voice behind him clicked their tongue. "Those are _my_ damn moves!" Harry turned around and saw the restrained, scratchy voice of Bakugou Katsuki, but his attention wasn't on Harry. Bakugou's red eyes were trained on the screen with a frustration and anger that Harry was too familiar with.

"In one week he's changed so much!" his classmates cheered.

"Look! Izuku is in the lead!"

"He's going to make it! He's going to make it—!"

Harry got up out of his seat. Izuku inched closer and closer to the finish line.

"He's—"

 _Slipped?!_

* * *

Harry carefully stepped on the starting platform and at that moment a gust of wind pushed against him and reminded his just how high up he was. He took a second to admire all of the winding pipes around him—but more importantly, he had to plan out exactly what his game plan was.

In a group against Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Sato, he couldn't afford to slow down.

"Everyone take your positions…" All Might's voice rang through the speakers. Harry leaned forward like a sprinter. "...Start!"

" _Ascendio!"_ His wand was pointed diagonal to the ground, and the moment that word left his lips, his body was thrown up through the air and _fast_.

His opponents were all behind him, but he was losing momentum just as quick as it came. When he slowed, he tilted his body down and hastily made his descent on the top of a cylindrical building, landing harshly against the concrete surface. He rolled as he landed, but was up on his feet not even a nanosecond after.

His lungs beat against his rib cage from the adrenaline rush and the wind couldn't get rid of the sweat on his palms. He turned to the pipes close to the edge of the building and leaped off.

If there was one thing that Dudley and Oliver Wood's insane training taught him, it was how to move fast, and move swiftly. Years of Harry Hunting was engraved into his body as he easily jumped over pipes, ran on cylindrical surfaces, and jumped from the roof of one building to another.

Harry, however, struggled with heaving himself over the sides of buildings everytime he was too short of a distance. His upper body strength increased incredibly over the week with Endeavor, but he still wasn't as fast as he was strong, and while he was pushing himself over roofs, his competitors passed him.

Yaoyorozu easily created bridges and rope ladders to get her way through and while Todoroki created ice that jutted off every surface he was on, making a pathway for him to skate on.

Tokoyami's shortcomings were cut short with the help of Dark Shadow and Sero was strong and speedy on both his upper and lower body.

They were ten feet ahead while he still was running along the pipes.

He needed to think fast or else he'd stay last place.

He couldn't transfigure or conjure up bridges like Yaoyorozu and he couldn't fly or apparate. For all they knew, he could only blow things up.

Maybe that's what he had to do.

Huffing, his head pounded with the upcoming exhaustion and increased the speed pumping in his legs.

Confringo was too firey and pushed things outward, so that left Expulso and Bombara.

Expulso used pressure instead of fire, but still blew things up outward, so that left Bombarda, a small spell that would just barely leave a dent in these thick metal pipes—just what he needed.

" _Bombarda_!" he cast just when the pipes under his feet stopped on a dead end. He pointed his hand at a row of pipes that were off his path, tucked to the side. The spell flew out of his wand and just when they hit the pipes head-on, the first one bent right toward him. Not even slowing once, he jumped off his pipe and landed right on the pipe that he just bent his way.

Smiling to himself, he continued to do that all the way.

* * *

He ended up getting third place. He straightened up from leaning over in tiredness and looked over to see a passive Todoroki wear the "Thank you for saving me!" sash that All Might cheerfully gave him.

A blow to his pride, and his exhaustion, _but at least he knew what to do in that situation now_ , he thought. Looked like he had more to work on than he thought, but quite frankly, he was already sick of mazes to last a lifetime.

 _Maybe I can ask Hermione for advice_ , drifted through his mind as his group cleared the way for the next upcoming group. _Maybe a muscle enhancing spell? Or maybe I should just carry my broomstick with me everywhere._

 _I'll just ask Izuku for advice tomorrow, he the type that knows what to do_. He firmly nodded to himself as stepped off the training grounds. He was focused on getting through the rest of the day as his schedule flashed through his mind and the work that he had to do.

It never occurred to him, not even for a second, that he might never have tomorrow.

* * *

"It's late November," Aizawa said in his tired voice from the front of the classroom. The rescue simulation was well over and they were all back in their classroom after the building excitement. "And that means that winter break is fast approaching; but of course, there's no reason that any of you will be relaxing for those couple of weeks."

His classmates all leaned in their seats.

"Could it be…?" someone whispered.

His teacher looked up from his papers and peered at all of them with sleepy eyes. "We're going to a winter break forest lodge."

The boys and girls around Harry instantly pumped their fists in the air. "Ah-hah! I knew it!"

"Winter means bring out the kotatsu table!"

"Let's do dares!" Ashido cheered.

"The festivals are soon then," Tsuyu said, a finger on her cheek in thought.

While everyone around him was building the anticipation for their winter plans and the lodge, Harry only sat in his seat. Winter for him meant the second Quidditch game, Christmas, Flitwick's choir club, and another Weasley sweater.

Everyone continued to excitedly talk over one another about plans or spending time together, but Aizawa was quick to shut them all down by announcing that if they didn't pass their end of term exams, it was remedial classes for them.

Kirishima was sure to turn around and shout a, "Do your best, everybody!" at the top of his lungs.

Harry stayed silent in his seat with his head in his palms. By being a transfer student, he would be cut a lot of slack on the written tests, but he still had a lot to work on for the practical tests. In a school as large and redeemed as U.A., it would be a difficult exam for sure.

 _This is the first time I'm spending Christmas away from England…._ Harry thought. _And the first time in years that I'm spending time away from Hermione and Ron._ Winter break was usually shorter in Japan, but with U.A.'s timetables, they've stretched out the winter break to have more time training.

Winter break would start on the twentieth of December, just five days away from Christmas, and he was sure that the moment break started, he would be whisked away to the lodge. It was just about to be December now, and that left him several weeks to study, then one whole week to take the exams.

He had talked about it before with them, and Hermione wanted to plan a trip to Japan to visit him over the break with Ron. She had suggested using the plane, but Ron wasn't comfortable with the idea of sitting in a metal box several thousand feet up in the atmosphere.

Eventually, they had to end those plans because Mrs. Weasley had made sure that they were kept under tight watch at the Burrow.

He missed his friends, but he guessed that seeing them would just have to wait for later.

* * *

School was over and with the transition back from internships to normal schooling once more, everyone was sluggish and extra tired. Even though it was a Monday, and this was U.A., teenagers were teenagers everywhere, and the students all sluggishly left the building while building plans with their friends for the weekend.

Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima left the school side-by-side, chatting on and on about the training they just had today and mixed in bits about other Pro Heroes.

Kaminari's voice was still in the middle of the highs and lows as his excitement carried out today's top saves by Pros around the world when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and his voice faded out with the wind.

Sero and Kirishima continued on for a bit with their cheerful chatter before they realized that their electric blond friend wasn't wasn't trailing behind them anymore. Instead the normally energetic boy was rooted to his spot several feet behind them, eyes wide and expression fixated on something beyond them.

"Huh? Kaminari—" Sero turned his body around.

"It-It's the girl from this morning!" Kaminari almost literally squealed, dashing off. There, standing by the U.A. gates, just beyond the security scanner, was the blonde girl standing off to the side with a shorter brown haired girl accompanying her. "H-Hey! Hey!" He ran up until he was right under the gates, Sero and Kirishima following right behind him after they picked their jaws off the ground at the sight of the woman in front of them, and that Kaminari all of people knew who she was. The blonde tilted her head in confusion but definitely did acknowledge that it was her that he was calling out to. He skid in place and stopped in his tracks several feet away from her. Up close she was even taller than he was, standing at 170 cm that was raised even more by the heels on her boots. Still, that didn't take away from her breathtaking beauty and made the blond boy want to melt in his shoes.

"Do you know this boy?" the brunette asked in low Japanese, dark eyes landing on the teenagers in front of her. She was a foreigner too, one with short, mousy brown hair and a heart shaped face, but perfect Japanese slipped from her lips just like that the blonde beside her.

A confused face crossed the tall girl's face and she subtly knit her eyebrows and pouted in thought.

"I-It's me!" Kaminari tried to say. He put his hands on his chest and he looked into her blue eyes. "I'm the boy that waved at you this morning!"

"Ah!" slipped from Fleur's lips and she turned to Tonks. A subdued smile suddenly appeared on her lips. "I remember!" She whipped her face back at their group of boys and smiled at them, but something underlining that grin made Kirishima be set on the edge. "Then can you help me with something?" she asked, her voice fluid and soft.

"A-Anything!" Kaminari heard himself say, enraptured. No doubt that in the background Kirishima and Sero shared looks of shock, and he wasn't blind to the people that gave her doubt takes. "A-Are you a Pro-Hero?!" he couldn't help but ask.

Fleur tilted her head slightly, and silvery-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder like a waterfall. "No, I'm just here to find someone." Kirishima couldn't help but think that her blue eyes became so icy in that moment. "Take him to me?"

* * *

"You're mixing up your sentence structure, Iida-kun…" Harry commented as Izuku, Harry, and Iida walked down the hallways of U.A. He held Iida's notebook in his hand and a pencil in the other, eyebrows furrowing as he looked over its contents.

"I see!" Iida pushed up his glasses again. "My former English tutor used to say that I had a recurring issue with that!"

Harry laughed softly at his class president's energetic response.

"It's not that major...for the most part I can understand it, but it will just sound awkward when spoken aloud…." He gripped the pencil tighter in his hand and was about to bring it down on the paper when he stopped himself. "Oh, may I?"

"Of course! Any guidance you give me will be greatly appreciated!" Iida said.

Harry didn't waste a second before he was marking up the sentence and fixing Iida's mistakes. "But your English is very good, Iida-kun, Izuku-kun," he commented. Usually Present Mic would save Harry for last when it came to answering questions or reading passages, and let the non-native speakers go on first. He heard it occasionally, but their English was understandable enough.

"Ah, n-not really!" Izuku said waving his hands. "I get okay marks in English class, but I'm better at verbal English." Deku laughed shyly. "If you saw my papers, you wouldn't think that. My old English teachers used to tell me that I mixed up my 'R's and 'L's in my writing all the time!"

Harry's face was in deep concentration for a while.

"Because of 'Ra,' 'Ri,' 'Ru,' 'Re,' 'Ro'?" he asked, remembering Hisashi's explanation to him almost a decade ago.

"Yeah!" Izuku beamed. "I used to listen to American podcasts when I was younger, so I learned a lot of words that way—but in writing I couldn't tell the difference. I misspelled things a lot."

"As expected of U.A." Iida passionately said. "English is one of the most, if not _the_ most, necessary languages in the world. By bringing over an exchange student from England, we students get one of the best learning experiences by learning from and with a native—!" Iida's loud voice was drowned out by even larger cries.

"Potter! Potter!" a voice shrieked from down the hall. The three boys whipped their head around and saw Sero and Kaminari nearly tripping over their feet trying to get to him.

"Huh?!" Harry dumbfoundedly said, looking down at his feet when Kaminari fell slid to the floor.

"A-Are you okay, Kaminari-kun?!" Izuku screamed in panic. Harry held up Iida's notebook like a shield between him and the other boys.

Kaminari only peeled his face off the floor and looked Harry right in the eye.

"The pretty girl—!"

"These two Europeans—!"

"They want to see—!"

Their blabber was nearly incomprehensible, voices overlapping and words tripping on each other, but in the bits and pieces that Harry did hear, it was unmistakable.

Izuku watched as Harry's face turned as white as a ghost and he wasted no time running out of the hallway and into the courtyard. His eyes instantly squinted when the indoor light was replaced with the harsh outdoor sun, but the moment his eyesight cleared he was scanning the grounds like a hawk.

Izuku and the rest of the boys followed right on his tracks, not even a beat behind.

Green eyes landed on two figures, and while they haven't seen each other for a good year, Harry could spot that blonde hair from a mile away.

"Fleur?!" Harry shouted, running up to the blonde girl.

It was plain for Izuku to see that Harry's expression wasn't elated, but was blind confusion—and horror.

Fleur turned and instantly beamed. The air around her was already otherworldly, but that genuine smile on her face could've literally lit up a room.

"'Arry!" she said, running up to him and meeting him halfway. She wasted no time grabbing his surprised face and planting a kiss on both of his cheeks much to the shock of the other boys. "I have missed you!"

A kiss like this would've made him burn back when he was in his fourth year, and maybe onto his fifth, but now they just made his sweat colder.

"Wha—Where's Bill?" he tried to say, strained as Fleur kept an iron-tight grasp on his face. The French girl didn't have a chance to answer when another voice popped up.

"Wotcher, Harry." a voice said from behind the half-Veela.

"Tonks!" Harry gaped as he was released and was pulled into a hug by the Metamorphmagus. His arm wound around her, but it looked like he was a puppet on strings, moving by memory and not by enthusiasm or choice.

Any other time he would've been happy to see them, but now his anxiety only pumped through his veins and beat in his head. No doubt that his expression was frozen in a state of wide eyes and an ajar mouth, and eyes knit with fear. His pulse ran at double speed, palms sweaty and clammy while his body felt cold.

Had they come for him?

He knew Fleur and Tonks, and while he knew that they would never harm him much—it had also been almost a full year since he had seen the Auror, and two years since he had last seen the French witch. He had skipped school, disappeared off the face of Europe, used underaged magic, used magic in front of _muggles_ —were they out for him? They were in the Order, and with Fleur's engagement to Bill, he was sure that she was on their side. But he had also gone off of Dumbledore's watch, and Tonks was an Auror; maybe the professor had finally given up on him.

All of these things he did added up to trial, and worse, Azkaban.

"Well, we're here for you!" Tonks said, dropping her hands, and giving him a small smile.

"We have a lot to talk about, 'Arry!" Fleur grabbed both of his hands in her own.

"I—" he resisted the urge to pull his trembling hands away from her grasp, and forced himself to swallow. As if he had just remembered that the other boys were there, he inhaled and restarted himself. He turned his head to the visibly concerned Izuku and to the entranced boys. He could deal with the Wizarding World, but he had to take care of Midoriya first.

"You can go on ahead, Izuku-kun," Harry said, voice soft and slow. "I'll catch up later."

"A-Are you sure?" His big green eyes switched from Harry to the two women in front of him. His expression was soft, worried, like a doe in the woods, but any fighter saw in his body language that Izuku was tense, one foot forward, muscles taut, and ready to spring into action just in case Harry was in trouble.

The wizard whipped his head around and black hair dropped onto his eyes. The two witches stood in wait.

"Yeah."

* * *

The walk back to his hotel room was quiet and tense.

There was no conversation between them, and Harry kept a good several feet in front of them to wedge in space that he desperately needed. Halfway through, Hedwig joined in, and she only glanced at the witches once before turning back to him and gently tugging on his hair.

They made it up several floors and watched as Harry unlocked the door before letting them in. It felt strange and embarrassing having two witches squeezed inside his messy, small room, but Harry pushed that thought aside.

"Uh, do you guys want anything to drink?" he asked slowly. Fleur's eyes curiously observed the room, stopping on every single one of his magical items, and he could tell that Tonks was sensing all of the protective charms he had up.

"Muggle-Repelling, Anti-Theft, Anti-Unlocking, Blocking Barrier, Caterwauling Charm…" the Metamorphmagus listed under her breath. She trained those dark eyes on him. "You have quite an arsenal in here, Harry…." She beamed. Tonks was clumsy and a bit thick-headed sometimes, but in moments like this he was reminded that she was only twenty-four and a successful Auror under the one and only Mad-Eye.

"It's mostly Hermione that helped me put these up…" he shyly admitted, maneuvering around his cauldrons and trunks to get to the mini fridge in the corner of the room.

Fleur told him that she wanted a water, and it took Tonks a while for her to answer, but eventually asked if he had any butterbeer hanging around.

He gestured to the table and asked them to sit before he placed both of his drinks down.

Now that they were alone, and he wasn't on the move, he got a better look at them.

Fleur hadn't changed a bit. She was still that young woman with breathtaking beauty that would've made younger Harry blush like there was no tomorrow. Undoubtedly she had attracted all sorts of attention on the way here.

Tonks, however, looked as if the rain had washed away all the color from her hair, face, and eyes. Her face was drawn and shallow, and her eyes were dark with lack of sleep—she looked ill. There was something forced in her voice and her small smile.

 _Is it…because of Sirius?_ he asked, shoulders slumped. She was his cousin just as much as he was his godson. He put his own drink down and pulled out his chair, plopping down before he stared right at the two witches.

"How can you guys speak such great Japanese? What are you guys doing here?" he immediately asked, getting rid of his first curiosity, almost falling into an Izuku-like ramble. "How did you guys find me? And why...you two?"

It was the strangest matchup, he thought. He didn't even know that the two knew each other. He wasn't an expert on girls, but these two felt like they were the complete opposite of each other.

Tonks and Fleur were like night and day in appearance, but vice versa in personality.

Tonks liked funky hairstyles, youthful clothing, and had a carefree attitude. She was fun and clumsy, tomboyish and rough, but a warm and friendly person.

Fleur wouldn't be seen dead in Tonk's purple hair and street style. She was the image of gentle perfection, but Harry knew from his fourth year that her personality was the complete opposite of gentle. She could be cold, aggressive, and distant.

"It is a translation charm," Fleur added, a smile on her face. "It makes me speak very well, right?" she asked. Her English was usually throaty and thick with her accent, but her Japanese was fluid and soft. Her and Tonks spoke better than he did, who was learning ever since he was a child, but they sounded like natives.

"And calm down Harry," Tonks tried to reassure. "We saw you at your school's festival, but Hermione and Ron confirmed your location."

So the wizards did see him in the U.A. Sports Festival after all. Yet that wasn't the main issue in his mind.

They _were_ acting strange this morning, and Harry felt a deep betrayal drop into his stomach when the realization hit them. But there was the way that Tonks said it that made Harry remember: they wouldn't tell Tonks and Fleur anything unless he was safe and would be guaranteed safe. He knew it. He knew _them_.

"You are a very lucky boy because my father works for the French ministry!" Fleur cut in, pride unmistakable in her voice. Harry turned to her with confusion. "The wizards had a world meeting recently, and since your ministry is still busy with your absence and the new minister, Great Britain didn't send a representative.

"The Japanese Ministry saw the U.A. festival and recognized you." Harry's heart stopped for a second. "Japan has always had a secluded and quiet Ministry. They only have interactions with the other Wizarding governments when they need to!"

"They were even quiet during the muggle World Wars—caused a lot of tension back then," Tonks added, already out of her seat and leaning against a wall.

"My father is a French representative, and since our governments are close, Japan told my father about you!" Fleur smiled. "Then he told me, and I told Nymphadora! Do not worry, I asked him not to tell his superiors." Tonk's face grimaced in the background at the sound of her first name. "We met each other at the Weasley's house over the summer. I did not trust Mrs. Weasley to tell you this, or those little girls either, so I told her!"

"So here were are," Tonks said with subdued cheer. He was silent for a while before he spoke up. The Japanese Wizarding government had their eyes on him this entire time them. All of his efforts to lay low were naught, but he guessed now that it would've been pointless from the start. There was no such thing as going to U.A. and keeping a low profile.

"Am I in trouble…?" Harry asked, tone cautious as he stared down at his lap. His fingers clenched until he felt those crescents imprint into his skin.

"No you're not," Tonks said, finally sitting down again after she finished her butterbeer. "But we told Dumbledore, and we're here to ask you to go back to Hogwarts—"

"Back to Hogwarts?!" Harry sputtered. An idea like that would've sounded so natural several months ago, but the sound of that now almost seemed alien to him.

"...Just to talk to Dumbledore," Tonks said, and it was so out of character for Harry to see Tonks this serious. Before Harry could protest or shout or scream at them, she cut him off. "You don't have to stay for a long time, Harry," she assured. Hermione and Ron already told her that Harry might be against the idea, so she had to handle this like she was poking a sleeping dragon. "You just need to talk to Dumbledore. He's been meaning to talk to you, and knowing him he wouldn't send us unless it's important. The Ministry won't know a thing."

Harry's mouth open and closed before he snapped his jaw shut and pressed his lips together. His eyes were trained to the side, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

He knew that fact all too well.

He couldn't count the number of times he needed something from Dumbledore, and he understood that Dumbledore couldn't devote his time and energy to Harry alone—but when he needed answers, he never got them unless Dumbledore wanted to give it to him.

"I have an International Portkey that will take you right to Hogsmeade." Tonks assured. She then leaned close. "It's thirty minutes before midnight in Scotland now, and the Portkey will start to activate in half an hour. Hermione and Ron are already aware of the plan. Now, Harry." She leaned over the table and put both of her hands on his stiff shoulders. Dark brown eyes reflected against green emeralds. "Will you take the Portkey?"

He looked helpless. Green eyes darted back and forth.

"I—"

Dark green hair and green eyes flashed through his mind.

"I'll—"

 _Harry, my boy._

* * *

Harry Potter got up the next day just as sunlight streamed through his window. He got up before the alarm rang and started to dress and brush his teeth unceremoniously. The clock on the wall told him that he had half an hour to walk to class if he wanted to make it out on time, so he put on his shoes, gave the still Hedwig a pat on her head, and walked out the door.

He made it up the stone steps of the school, walked to his locker, and slowly replaced his sneakers with his indoor slippers.

When he opened the door to Class 1-A, the volume suddenly burst.

"Potter! Potter!" Kaminari and Mineta shouted, a blur of yellow and purple as they were running toward him like madmen. The wizard let out a small scream and almost tripped as he tried to stumble back.

"What the—!" The two boys were blubbering in front of him, but he only tried to look for an escape route. Harry tried to maneuver past them and knocked against a desk on his way to the seat. His eyes constantly looked back and forth at Kaminari and Mineta like he was running away from a natural disaster.

"You have to tell us how you know a pretty girl like that!" Kaminari's hands gripped at his shirt and blazer.

"Don't tell me she's your girlfriend!" Mineta pulled on his pantlegs.

"You're our classmate, but you're totally holding out on us!" were their complaints as he put his messenger bag on the ground.

"It's so early, yet they're loud as always…." the bird-headed teenager beside him mumbled.

"Potter's always been such an enigma," a dark-haired girl with earphone jacks hanging off her earlobes mumbled from the front of the classroom.

"Right!" the pink-skinned girl said, hands clenched into fists. "We're finally going to learn more about the transfer student!"

More conversation filled the lively classroom as Kaminari and Mineta brought more attention down on Harry. At the end of the room, Iida stood with a silent Todoroki.

"How I know them?" Harry asked, finally looking at them. They tearfully nodded. "Uh...the brown-haired one was my upperclassman, and the blonde girl—" which is what they really wanted to know, he sourly thought "—I fought against her once," he stated, thinking back to the Triwizard Tournament.

"Ahh! You fought someone as delicate as her?!" Kaminari screamed, looking at Harry like he was committing a crime.

"Potter, you brute!" Mineta commented, tiny fists waving at him.

"Hey, come off it!" Harry said, leaning away from Mineta's punches, finally feeling irked by them. "Just because she looks like that doesn't mean she's delicate. And we had something like your Sports Festival too—I didn't fight her because I was picking an argument with her."

"So you have French students at your school as well, Potter-san?" a soft voice spoke from behind him. He turned around and saw a girl with a large black ponytail standing there, awaiting his answer.

"Oh...no," he responded. "It wasn't a competition between the students of one school; we had three different schools competing against each other."

"No way!" The volume around Harry grew, and he realized that the entire class was listening in now. They fed on any information that Harry was telling them.

"That sounds so exciting!" Kirishima's loud voice rang from across the room.

"I'm sure it was a dazzling experience—but not as dazzling as _moi_."

"That would be like us against Shiketsu or something right?!"

"But how would that work?" a girl asked, twirling with one of her earphone jacks. He turned to her and she looked back at him with interested eyes.

"One kid from each school is specially chosen; and it's usually by talent and skill, so it's normally the seventh years," Harry explained, blinking, "but there was a mistake my year and two kids from my school were chosen—I was one of them." There was not a single hint of boasting or bragging in his voice; he was saying it like he was reading the news.

"Potter must be super strong then! Now it's just confirmed!" Hagakure commented, the arms of her blazer lifting.

"But it was also a _mistake_ ," Bakugou spat from his seat across the room.

"Oh, Bakugou!" Kirishima smiled wide and showed off his sharp teeth. "So you are listening in after all!"

"What of it, huh?!" Bakugou shouted, fangs bared as his palms let out small pops. "You side characters are just being fucking loud!" Luckily, it was common enough that no one paid his outburst any mind.

"Is this to bring honor to your school, and to bring in internships?" Tokoyami asked. If there were only four students being represented, that meant that there was no chance for the school to give the majority of their students internships.

"Oh, it wasn't for internships," Harry said, turning to Tokoyami. "It was for prize money."

"How much?!" Uraraka was up and instantly slamming her hands on his desk. Her eyes were white with a burning fire. He jolted, but composed himself not long after.

Harry paused for a while, thinking of the conversion between Galleons to muggle pounds and then from that to the yen.

"680,980...yen?" Harry muttered, eyes foggy in thought.

He turned back to the classroom and saw all of them silent as statues.

"Six hundred and eighty thousand…" someone muttered from a corner of the room.

"And nine hundred and eighty yen…"

They all exploded at the same time; with a volume so loud that it nearly blew Harry's hair back.

"What kind of school did you go to?!" Kaminari shouted.

"Is this an underground fighting ring?!" Sero added.

The students continued to yell and freak out, talking over one another until their voices overlapped and it all sounded like the same buzzing sound.

"But more importantly…!" Ashido said, a finger up in the air.

"Who—?"

"—Won?!"

"Oh." Harry blinked owlishly again. "I did—but I gave the money away because I didn't need it." He said it as if he was talking about the weather.

The room was quiet again before they all screamed at the top of their lungs.

"You did _what_?!"

"Idiot! You could've given the money to someone like me!"

"A charitable person is exactly what we look for in a hero!" Iida was the only one who praised him, pushing up his glasses.

"I-i'm sorry?!" Harry asked, leaning back as the other students leaned forward and overwhelmed him.

The door then slid opened, and Izuku Midoriya peeked his head inside.

The entire classroom fell silent and all turned their heads toward him.

"H-Huh?" Midoriya asked, face growing red, head turning back and forth at all the eyes staring at him. "W-What's going on?"

* * *

"I'm sure you're all studying constantly, right?" Aizawa asked with a drawl, putting his papers away. He gave the classroom one look before he walked out the door, leaving them completely unsupervised. "Good luck."

"Harry-kun!" Izuku Midoriya called, and Harry lifted his head off his palm to turn his eyes on the green-haired teenager.

"Hey, Izuku-kun," Harry greeted, seated in his chair with a smile.

"I was just wondering if everything's okay, since those girls came, and you canceled on the dinner," he rambled, listing off his worries.

"Oh, everything's fine—and I know those girls," after a pause he spoke again. "I'm sorry I had to cancel on dinner." He frowned, thinking back to the text.

"That's fine!" Midoriya waved his hands back and forth in a flurry. "My mom packed you a bento for you to take home anyway…. I was just worried." He looked at Harry in the eye and his shoulders slumped. "When you saw those two girls...I couldn't help but think that you looked so.. _.scared_."

Harry tried to laugh it off and put both of his hands back on the desk. "I was just surprised that they were here. But they're my upperclassmen, and I trust them. Don't worry, Izuku-kun."

Midoriya exhaled, but the lines on his face still held some worry. "A-Alright, but you know that if anything's wrong...you can talk to me, right?" His voice grew quieter and quieter with every word.

"Um, Potter-san," a gentle voice called and the two boys lifted their heads up to see Yaoyorozu standing there with a shine in her eyes.

"Hm?" he asked, tilting his head.

"I'm holding a study group with some of the other students, and I thought it would be a good idea for you to come too. You're the best teacher we could have for the English portion!" she said with a smile on her face, almost with a bounce in her step.

"Sure thing, I'd love to go," Harry replied naturally, returning her smile. "I need some help with the Japanese part anyway."

"But Potter-chan," Tsuyu spoke up from the desk next to him, "your Japanese is a lot better. It sounds especially good today."

"Thank you," he said, tilting his head toward the frog-like girl. "I've been practicing hard!"

"This will be great!" Yaoyorozu's smile grew even wider, if possible. "I'll text you all the address, but Potter-san I'm sure to have some preference for tea. My mother and I are fully stocked with teas all around the world, but if you have any you favor, don't hesitate to tell me!"

"I'd be fine with any tea you give me," Harry laughed. He looked back at Izuku. "Do you want to come too?" he asked.

Izuku's eyes were trained down on Harry's desk, and it took Harry calling out to him again for the boy to snap out of whatever stupor he was in.

"H-Huh?" Izuku asked, looking up and blinking over and over.

"Yaoyorozu-chan and the rest of us are having a study group, do you want to come with us?" Harry asked, eyes up at Midoriya. If he had noticed his blank stare, he didn't mention it.

"O-Oh." Those green eyes constantly flashed back and forth at his desk. "I-I think I'll be busy that day, actually! Go ahead without me."

"Sure…." After a while, Harry spoke up again, eyes knitted in concern. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah!" Izuku jumped. "Everything's just fine! S-Sorry for spacing out…!"

Harry blinked. "Alright mate…." With a reluctant last glance, he finally peeled his eyes away from Midoriya and turned back to Yaoyorozu to talk to her.

Izuku's eyes fell on the desk once more, and then at Harry's scarless hand.

 _Everything's just fine._

* * *

After another hard day at U.A., Izuku was tucked into his room updating the information he had in his notebooks.

He flipped the page and stopped suddenly at Harry's page, almost as if he had forgotten that it was there. It was half finished and he remembered that he was working on it yesterday until he fell asleep. He was in the middle of sketching Harry's hero costume and labeling all of the colors that Harry emitted. He remembered thinking that he was going to ask Harry exactly what each color alluded to, but—

Two taps rang on his glass window and Izuku jumped in his chair, slamming his notebook shut.

Turning to the window, he saw Hedwig fluttering there, large eyes trained on him as she waited to be let in.

He quickly got up and threw the window open, wincing at some of the wind that got blown in. She flew in like a knife through the air and stopped at the edge of his bed to ruffle her feathers back to order. Izuku was still cautious about what happened back in Hosu, but she was the image of innocent as she sat on his bed and hooted at him with wide eyes. Carefully, he approached her and petted her feathers.

A smile grew on his face when she leaned into his touch.

"Is Harry-kun coming, Hedowigu-san?" he asked. Hedwig stiffened under his hand, and he instantly recoiled it. Hooting only once, she paused before she did the owl equivalent of shaking her head.

That creeping feeling Izuku had during class only amplified with her answer. Stomach churning, he turned back to his notebook and got back to work. Hedwig flew over to his desk, careful of the All Might memorabilia that he had strewn around, and looked down at his book.

The pencil in his hand froze for a while, but then he got to work at double the speed and instantly started to clean up the notes he had on Harry.

Finish it off, he wrote down the date.

 _November 29: That is not the real Harry?_

* * *

Sighing after a long day at U.A., Harry quickly slammed the door behind him and worked his hands on his aching shoulders.

It had been years since she was back to school, and it was still as exhausting as she remembered.

Exhaling once more, she closed her eyes and concentrated before that messy black hair faded into a light brown, those harsh jaws and cheekbones filled out into a heart-shaped face, and those green eyes were pooled with a dark brown.

Tonks ran her hand through her hair and fell into bed to prepare for another day at U.A tomorrow.

* * *

Standing under the Scottish stars, three figures could be seen on the darkened grass, hustling the last figure as they ran.

"Come on, you two, move faster!"

"Quicker!" Bright green eyes and messy hair peeked up from underneath the invisibility cloak. "Harry!"

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

I tried to get this finished on Harry Potter's birthday, but I finished a couple of minutes after midnight, sadly.

But to you guys who keep on apologizing for writing long comments, don't! They are what keep me going for this story, and I can tell you that almost every author feels the same way, so please feel free to comment as much as you wish.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

"You can't get into U.A. without my student I.D., so here." Harry quickly fished the stocky plastic out of his pockets and swiftly handed it to Tonks. She took it from his hands and examined it and turned it around. His name was clearly written on the top, and Tonks inwardly thought that if this name that was worth its name in gold was on any sheet of paper back home, people would be swarming. His stood awkwardly in the picture, frozen like a lake in winter, keeping that slanted upturn of his lips and exaggerated darkness underneath his eyes.

"And here's my phone too. They're all in there, and we have a group chat, but…there's about twenty of them in the class so— " Harry mumbled, looking at Tonks then down to the notepad in his hand. With twenty minutes left until the Portkey activated, he had to work fast. "The boy with spiky red hair is Kirishima. The one with yellow hair and a lightning bolt streak is Kaminari, and the boy with rounded elbows and black hair is Sero. There's a really tall bloke that covers his face with a mask and his name is Shoji, and the one with a tail is Ojiro. Koda's the animal lover, but he's really quiet, and Sato's the muscular one, but I don't really talk to him. Mineta's the short one. Aoyama is the one that talks to you in English and French." Harry paused in his notes. "Out of these boys, I talk to Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero more often." He circled their names.

"Got it." Tonk's face was hardened with determination. The hotel room was quiet with the scratches of the pencil against paper.

"I sit near a guy with a bird's head, and his name is Tokoyami, but he rarely talks too…. Iida is the class president with the glasses and Todoroki—"

"That's the one you fought right?" Tonks asked. She remembered him as the one with the ice Quirk, and she remembered thinking that he was an absolute powerhouse. Tonks was impressed—Harry had always been a strong wizard, but that was shown only against other wizards. That Todoroki kid obviously had an athletic advantage, while she thought that the most exercise Harry had ever gotten was his Quidditch drills. If Harry was able to keep up with him then he would be a shoe-in for Auror already. "I'd love to copy his hair sometimes," was the only thing she could say.

"Yeah," Harry replied quickly, almost unconsciously, before moving onto the next load of names. "We had an internship together, but he's not much of a talker anyway. You should look up Hosu—I got injured there earlier and they put it on the news."

Tonks paused.

"Do you get in trouble everywhere?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. She thought that Hermione and Ron were only exaggerating. There was the teeniest bit of her that wanted to smile and clap him on the back, and maybe the old her would've.

"I'm not trying to!" the wizard insisted, waving his hands. When she only looked more inquisitive, he just exhaled and continued to write down his notes about his classmates. "The really angry one's Bakugou—" The Metamorphmagus opened her mouth to say something. "You'll know him when you see him—We don't really talk either.

"There are six girls in class: Tsuyu, Uraraka, Hagakure, Jiro, Ashido, and Yaoyorozu. I've written down all of their physical descriptions for you." Harry said, handing the notepad to Tonks. Her dark eyes scanned the pages and all of his notes on how to identify all of them, committing it all to memory.

"I don't really talk to any of them unless they talk to me first though…" Harry admitted shyly, putting a hand at the back of his neck. But then he straightened and his expression grew more determined.

"And stay away from our homeroom teacher, Aizawa—He thinks that Sirius was a villain with a horrible Quirk." His face scrunched up at the reminder of that man, but this his voice drops as if someone else could hear him in his dark hotel room. "It's a stretch, but if he figures out any more...he could _really_ be onto us," Harry whispered, and Tonks caught on automatically.

 _Wizards._ They had to protect their secret.

"We have a test coming up," Harry reminded, head immediately lifting up. "Can you handle it?" There was worry knitting his brows, and Tonks tried to reassure him with a smile.

"No problem, Harry!" She smiled. "The Translation charm is mostly verbal, but there's a Cribbing Spell that will help me on the written portion—"

"And the practical exam?" Harry asked eyebrow raised. He was doubting her.

"I can handle it, Harry," she said, voice soft as she put a hand on his shoulder. "I may trip over things, and I'm clumsy, but I am an Auror." There was a pride in her voice that lifted the worry off his shoulders. "I'll make sure you pass."

He was silent before he spoke again. "Alright. There's one person that you _have_ to remember though," he said, snapping her out of her reverie, voice growing soft. "Izuku Midoriya. He's—He's the one I'm here for."

The figurative clock was ticking down and the two locked eyes, directly in front of one another. Harry had enough clothes and items shoved into the messenger bag over his shoulder and he was ready to go.

"His mom's name is Inko Midoriya, and she's real kind—like Mrs. Weasley."

The Portkey shined in his hands.

"And I care about them a lot."

He was gone.

* * *

Waking up early for school was something Tonks absolutely hated when she was in school. Whether it was Herbology or Defense Against the Dark Arts, early classes were something she always struggled with. She thought that it was the last of it when she finished Hogwarts, but here she was, back in class.

Her head was on her hand as the guests from Isami High School introduced themselves at the front of the class—rude, she knew—but she hasn't woken up this early for books and notes for what seemed like forever. Her eyelids felt heavier by the second, and before she knew it, her eyes were closed shut, and her hand slackened.

 _Bang!_

Tonk's head shot up, with eyes as wide as any owl's after that dive her skull made with the wooden desk. All drowsiness was wiped from her eyes and her head turned back and forth to see if anyone noticed. Everyone in the class was silent and looking at her, even the guests.

She laughed softly.

"Sorry…!" she mumbled, a disarming smile on Harry's face.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

* * *

"That's a first!" a voice said beside the metamorphmagus. They were all in the locker rooms dressing for their training simulation in their hero costumes, and Tonks wasn't blind to see that Harry had modeled his from the Gryffindor Quidditch robes. Even when she put it on she cheekily thought that she was betraying her poor Hufflepuffs.

She closed the locker in front of her and turned to the blond beside her.

"Huh?" She turned to face him. "What is?" A look of confusion flashed across Harry's face.

"Are you playing dumb?" Kaminari—she recalled—grinned.

"You're finally changing in the locker rooms with us!" A smiling redhead burst out from behind the blond and beamed at Harry. "You can finally join in on all the manly locker talk!" He swung an arm around Kaminari's shoulders and waved a fist around energetically.

"'Manly locker talk?'" Tonks echoed with a sly grin. "Do I really want to know what that is?"

Kirishima caught on to her connotations and he yelped. His skin turned red like his hair and his lips turned into a wobbly smile. His hands waved around so quickly that if his arms moved any wider, she'd think that he would slice through the lockers.

"T-That's not what I meant! M-Manly to me isn't a gender—! I-I'd never talk about girls that way—!"

"But we can," Mineta immediately jumped into the conversation, appearing like an unwanted ghost.

"No thanks," Tonks shot him down as quick as he came.

Sero jumped into the conversation too. "You usually change in the bathrooms is what we meant! We thought it was a cultural thing!" There was a disarming smile on all of their faces, but while she returned a smile of her own it did little to calm the roaring dragon on nerves.

There was a brief strike of panic that crossed through Tonks when she realized that she slipped up on one of Harry's habits already. Laughing to brush aside the nervousness, she laced up the jacket and shinguards so her hands had something to do.

She looked at them and gave them a smile to ease worries. She turned her head down to tie her the laces of her books and avoided their eyes.

"I thought it was about time I joined you guys," was all she said.

If she knew that sooner, she would've made a mad dash to the bathroom to start. Tonks was always changing; ever since she discovered her metamorphmagus powers at a young age. She could be anything she wanted: male, female, both, neither, and everything in between. Physical appearances weren't something that bothered her, but changing with a bunch of fifteen-year-old boys wasn't something that made her comfortable either. The entire time she kept her eyes trained on the metal of the lockers.

She was sure that Harry changed in the lockers back home, and she knew for a fact that he lived in a dormitory with the other Gryffindors his age, so he shouldn't be shy.

"Great! We're finally getting to know you better!" Kirishima grinned again, showing off those sharp teeth of his.

"Yeah!" Kaminari jumped in. "You can start by telling us about your school festival!" His eyes lit with almost literal lightning.

"Or if you have any girlfriends or know any cute girls back home!" Mineta jumped in, eyes almost feral.

She laughed, trying to hide her nervousness. "Sure, whatever you want to know."

The group of boys all led her outside to the training fields, an irate Bakugou several feet behind. Tonk's head was bowed with the arms around her neck and a genuine smile broke across her lips. For that quick second, Harry Potter was just a normal teen with his friends.

 _He was not a normal teen._

Izuku Midoriya could only watch as _Harry_ walked out of the room.

* * *

"Today's Hero Exercise will be observed by me and one other person," the shaggy-haired, tired-looking teacher said from the front of the crowd. They crowded around their teacher on a patch of grass that stretched far past the silver gate in front of them. Trees peaked up from the edges of the gate and shaded the whole area.

 _That's definitely the person Harry told me to look out for,_ Tonks thought, _but he looks so tired I can't help but wonder if Harry was being serious._

Maybe she should've expected someone a bit more...awake looking? If anything he looked like he wanted nothing more than to roll over and take a nap right in front of them, and his expression never changed even when all of them arrive or if there was only a handful of them around. But if anything Harry said was true, then that meant that Tonks was on the edge too. Someone that knew that Harry was connected to muggle-famous Sirius Black wasn't good even across wizard or muggle boards.

 _But...he kinda looks like Sirius too_ , she gently thought of her late cousin. They had the same black shaggy hair, the same dark eyes, and dark undereye bags, but she knew that the man in front of her had them from lack of sleep. Sirius' became permanent after his many years in Azkaban. Everyone knew that even with his lingering traces of handsomeness, he would look like a shallow, tortured man until his death.

It was true.

 _How did you even survive here_ , Tonks wondered. Black eyes wandered until they fell on her artificial green ones. She gasped and they widened from being caught staring at the one person Harry told her to keep a low key in front of.

She hurriedly looked down at her boots.

" _I have_ —like a special guest— _arrived_!"

Tonks watched as a large, blond, overly-muscular man fell from the sky and flipped into a perfect stance on the ground. He was as tall as Hagrid, with a big, beaming smile that was like a mirror that reflected the sun.

Her jaw dropped in amazement and surprise. So this was U.A. and this really was the Number One Hero in Japan, even chalking up the Top Ten Heroes in the world. He looked like an American caricature more than anything.

"Today we will have you go through Survival Training!" he boomed, teeth shiny enough to blind a man.

Mutters of an "All Might!" floated around them in amazement and wonder at the man in front of them. The man seemed to smile wider if possible and continued on to explain the Survival Training that they had in store for them. She dropped her wandering thoughts and listened in. She was sure Harry had the focus of a hawk, that's probably why he was Seeker and she tripped over desks even while knowing they were there. They would be split into five teams of five, set up around special positions around the forest that the teachers had assigned for them. Their one objective is to survive as a team.

Tonks stood off to the side thinking to herself as everyone gathered in their groups around her. "Surviving" sounded easy enough, and she already had a bunch of experience up her sleeve from her Auror training and Moony's own paranoia. She smiled to herself, this was going to be easy. Harry was going to pass with flying colors.

"You have five minutes to get to your positions," Aizawa called. He clicked the stopwatch in his hands. "Starting now."

* * *

"Thank goodness," the girl with the large ponytail called out when she saw Harry, clasping her hands together. "We're all here."

"Harry" looked at his teammates around him. The boy with the mask, Shoji, stood silently and formidable in the background while Kirishima beamed at the sight of Harry pulling away from the leaves and foliage. Yaoyorozu stood in front of him while Bakugou sulked in the background.

"Do we have a plan?" Tonks asked, walking closer to close off the circle.

"A simple survival training means that we can choose to sit and relax, and avoid the other teams for as long as possible," Shoji said, a mouth growing out of one of his arms.

"Yes…" Yaoyorozu mumbled, standing to the right of Harry. "But the other teams are likely to find us easier if we stay in one spot…. Potter-kun...do you have an offensive plan in mind?" She looked up at him with a searching look in her eyes and devoted all of her attention to him.

Tonks hummed in thought for a while and sat down with her legs crossed, compelling Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Shoji to sit down with her.

It's been a while since she had taken the reigns for planning. It had always been Penny, Rowan, and Tulip taking the brains of an attack and survive plan like this, and then after that, it had been Moody and Kingsley while Tonks had always been the one specializing in espionage and forefront attacks. But if she didn't pick up anything from her times in the battlefield then she didn't deserve to be here.

"Does anyone have a map of the place?" Tonks finally asked, exhaling and opening her eyes.

"Here." Yaoyorozu's exposed skin sparked with blues and pinks for a while before a crisp, new map appeared before their eyes.

 _Creation Quirk,_ Tonks thought, narrowing her eyes then thankfully taking the map. She pantomimed pulling a marker and paper out of her pockets and conjured them into reality. She placed the map in the middle of them and got to work.

"We're here," Tonks stated, circling their spot on the map, and her uplifting tone suddenly switched out with something more serious the second she was put to work. It was done unconsciously, but something that her low mood couldn't bring back up. Kirishima borrowed the marker from her and started to circle the other spots on the map where he knew the other teams were. Green eyes studied the map and zoomed from corner to corner.

She looked up at the masked man and looked at her spare piece of paper.

"If we want to go offensive, we need a formation," Tonks stated. "Shoji-kun's Quirk looks like it's best for search and discovery, so he will go in the front with the map. He'll be the best at leading us and alerting us. Yaoyorozu-chan, can you make bandages?" Tonks asked.

"Yes!" she immediately replied, perking up. "Any type and any fiber you wish!"

"Then she and I will go in the middle of the formation." Tonks paused to scribble on the paper and draw out their lineup. "I only know basic first aid, but it will help in case any of you will get injured. The middle is always the most protected spot, Plus…" She stopped once more and drew Kirishima and Bakugou, the explosive boy, she remembered. "Powerhouses always go at the end of the formation." She held up the paper with a determined face and showed it to everyone.

"You're really amazing, Potter-kun!" Kirishima commented, eyes almost shining. He looked at the map with amazement. "And I'd totally take any hit that comes our way! If there's any powerhouse that deserves to be at the back that's Bakugou!"

Kirishima's head turned to call out to the bold boy, but the spot that he had been previously occupying was empty.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima called out to open air, like he was expecting the blond to suddenly reappear in sparks and explosions.

"He left," Shoji commented like he knew this was to be expected. "Three-hundred meters from here."

Yaoyorozu sighed almost knowingly. "As expected of Bakugou-san…."

Tonks shot to her feet and surveyed the area around them. "Shoji-kun, three-hundred meters _where?_ " Her red cloak swished around her ankles with her movement. She walked forward until she was in the middle of the dusty road.

"At the left—directly where you are facing now." She wasted no time and broke into a run, making all the others cry out.

"You guys stay in formation!" Tonks called out, "I'll go drag Bakugou back!"

She leaned back on her heel like a panther before she took off in a sprint, ignoring all the cries of wait that sprang out from her party.

After a couple minutes of running, she finally called out to the spiky blond hair that came into view. That head whipped around a curse fell from his lips. He turned again and pushed his legs to run even faster.

"Fuck off, transfer student!" Bakugou shouted, but Tonks only continued to pull forward. "Go back to your dumbass planning! I'm going to crush everyone all by myself!"

Tonks inwardly blanched.

 _So that's what Harry meant by short temper…._

"C'mon, Bakugou-kun!" Tonks tried to coax. "We can't do this without you!"

She fell into step with him as his run turned into a predator's walk.

"Then fail," he spat.

"But we're a team!" Tonks tried to say. Eventually, she just grabbed the back of his shirt and forcefully whirled him around. A hand shot out to give her an explosion to the face, but she didn't even blink. A wandless and soundless Protego shot out of her hand and stopped the Quirk like a blanket over a fire. He scoffed as soon as the smoke petered away to reveal Harry's unhurt face, and turned around to continue walking away. "Do you have a problem with me?" she asked, arms out as she followed the blond into the thicker part of the forest.

"Yeah."

She fell silent for a while.

"What...is it...?" she eventually asked when Tonks realized that he wasn't going to give it to her.

Bakugou scoffed and clicked his tongue again. "Is this fucking twenty questions?"

"It can be," was the only thing she cheekily replied with.

He was silent again and Tonks wondered if she needed to prod him again for answers when he spoke. "I hate your fucking face." He didn't even bother to turn around and look at her.

Even she had to pause in shock.

"What's wrong with my face?" she asked indignantly, wondering if she should feel offended on Harry's behalf. "Am I that ugly?" she asked, almost to herself. She didn't _think_ that Harry was ugly.

"The ugliest motherfucker." Bakugou replied and she snapped her head up. Then a grin melted onto her face when she saw the tiniest hint of a smirk on Bakugou's lips. When he noticed what he was doing that smirk was immediately dropped to scowl and his cold attitude was back.

"Your shitty expression always gets on my damn nerves!" Bakugou finally explained, and the Hufflepuff knew when it was her turn to fall silent. "Always looking like you're too much of a dumbass to know what you're doing—people like you piss me off the most. Even that stupid Deku knows what he wants."

He finally spun around on his heels and faced her. Tonks was suddenly looking at Bakugou straight in the eye the second he marched in and ran into her personal space. "I'm gonna be the number one Hero, so it gets on my damn nerves when you're in the same place that I am, but you don't even fucking know what you want! A _re you fucking making fun of me?!_

"If I'm number one only because you refuse to do anything is fucking meaningless! With no damned goals and no damned future, you're just here to waste my time and get in my way! So unless you know what the hell you're going to be looking at, fuck off, _got it_?!"

He roared the last two words with so much malice that Tonk's hair was nearly blown back.

She was not Harry Potter, but she was in his shoes.

Harry Potter had no dream of being a Pro-Hero, this much she knew. When they were at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place Harry and Ron spoke extensively about being Aurors together. She didn't know Bakugou either, and she was sure that Harry could explain better than she could at this moment, but she understood these one-track-mind types.

Harry was a strong boy who posed as a threat to Bakugou's goal. One that Harry didn't even want. Bakugou acknowledged Harry's strength but was unhappy with how lacking of a competitor Harry was.

The wizard, however, must've had a constant conflicted expression on his face.

The boy in front of her was no idiot, she deduced this much. But did she really have the same expression as Harry?

He had a reason to hesitate even if she didn't know why. It didn't take Merlin to figure out that even when Harry was sitting in front of them that he was on the edge, afraid. Even when Tonks assured him that he wasn't going to be in trouble, his troubles didn't ease a bit. His shoulders remained squared and his muscles tense.

No, his troubles laid in the fact that he didn't want to leave.

Tonks didn't understand that. Harry _loved_ Hogwarts, and just like how she saw it, Harry saw Hogwarts as a home.

So why was he hesitating?

With this screaming kid in front of her, she connected the dots.

Everyone around him wanted to be a Hero. From random kids on the streets to the kids in his classroom, and Harry remained stationary in this environment.

Did he suddenly want to be a Hero too?

Hero or wizard—she thought of that green-haired boy he mentioned; the muggle world finally gave him something to stay for. Was he slowly separating from the Wizarding World?

This was where his conflict sat.

But her? She had only been around Bakugou for twenty minutes, but he saw that she had conflict too? Her heartbreak, her rejection, her anguish, he was able to see through that? Bakugou wasn't kidding. He was looking at her like he was one hundred percent certain.

" _I'm much too poor, too old, too dangerous—"_

His scowl only deepened when Tonks fell silent in front of him, dark bangs shadowing her eyes as she stood in thought. The dirt underneath him shifted when he moved to return back to his plan of explode-and-go.

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, but her eyes didn't even look up. He immediately stiffened underneath her hand and the muscles tensed before he could bring up a hand to brush her away.

"But what if the future you want...doesn't want you back?" she softly asked, eyes still trained on the dirt beneath her feet.

"Tch." He pushed her hand away, but this time he craned his neck back at her. "Do I sound like a fucking motivational speaker?" The tiniest bit of a smile lifted up the edges of her lips. "How the hell would I know? It's your fucking future, you should make your own damn choices; do whatever the fuck you want!"

She looked up past black bangs and bore those green eyes into his form. Tiny pops sounded in the forest, but they shut off the moment Bakugou held up a clenched fist.

"I don't give a damn what you do. But know this—" Red eyes met green. "I'm going to beat you no matter what!"

 _"I don't care, Remus!"_

"Okay," Tonks said, a genuine smile on her face. She clapped her hand over Bakugou's sparkling one and shook it. The sharp edges of his face faded away into confusion when his eyes dropped down to their clasped hands. The tiny sparks on her palm felt like nothing to the wizard who handled fireworks and explosive spells all the time. "I look forward to it! But I'd like to see you try— _gaki_."

"What the—!" He threw their hands down until she was forced to let go, and a tiny explosion only further separated their hands. She only grinned as she held up her stinging palm. "Who the hell are you calling a brat?! Do you want to die, transfer student?!"

Tonks only laughed as Bakugou ran after her.

* * *

"Bakugou-san! Potter-san!"

Tonks looked over from the tangled mess that was Sero, Tokoyami, Sato, and Kaminari and turned back to her team. The three ran toward her and Bakugou with expressions of surprise, relief, and slight irritation.

"Guys!" she said in surprise.

"Potter-kun," Shoji said, "we thought that your job was to bring Bakugou-kun back to us, not to join him." One of his extended arms grew an eye and looked pointedly at her like a parent scolding a child.

"Tch," Bakugou pointed at the taped team that hung above them in the trees. "Forget that shit. I'm already done."

"You two defeated ten people alone?!" Yaoyorozu gasped.

"You're advancing too fast!" Kirishima cried. "They're too good as allies!"

"I defeated them all by myself without transfer student's help!" Bakugou exploded.

"I tried to bring him back but nothing I did or said helped," Tonks added, almost with a sweatdrop. She probably would have an easier job trying to convince a dragon to leave its nest.

"Where're the Isamishits?" Bakugou asked. Shoji walked forward and the group closed off.

"What?" the platinum-haired boy asked. Thankfully she wasn't the only one lost. Here she thought it was a mistranslation or something.

"I'm talking about the Isami students!" Bakugou raised a gauntlet covered fist in the air.

"We only know the positions, Bakugou—" Kirishima tried to explain among the buzzing chaos. He was interrupted.

"Wait!" One of Shoji's extended ears and eyes pointed up toward the sky. "Something's incoming."

"What is it?!" Everybody's body turned to gaze up at the source. Tonks noticed that they all fell in a defensive stance. _So this school really is teaching them something._

"Is that…" Tonks' eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted up.

"Missiles?!" Yaoyorozu cried out.

"Everyone take cover!" Tonks called out, turning back to them. The moment she looked back, however, the missiles were nearly reaching touchdown. She cursed in her head and immediately dove into a safe place. The missiles touched ground and the forest was immediately split. Trees were uprooted or torn apart completely.

There was a ringing in her ears that she had to shake off even after the ground settled and she paused for a minute to nurse her headache before shaking her head like a wet dog.

 _One of those muggle flash grenades or something?_ she asked. Did a kid seriously just shoot a missile at her and her time? Here she was thinking that Hogwarts was crazy. She slowly got up on her knees and pushed off the ground to stand up straight. There was still dust that lingered through the forest, but the moment that dust cleared she realized that no one else was around. Not a sound was left in the forest and it hit her that she was separated from the others.

"Guys?" she called out, stepping out past the fallen trees and bushes and into the untouched part of the forest.

"Potter-kun?" a voice called out, and Tonks whipped her head around. The girl with short brown hair and the round face stepped out.

"Uraraka-chan!" Tonks called out, bringing that name up from her memory. "Jiro-chan! Izuku-kun!" Her head snapped to the next person that came up.

"Harry-kun!" Izuku called, running up to her. There was a slight relief that crossed his face. "W-What was that just now? Was it Kacchan?"

"Kacchan?" she echoed in slight confusion.

"Hey, where's your team?" Ashido jogged up to the rest of them.

"I was separated," Tonks replied. "Are you guys alright?" she asked, receiving nods in reply.

"But there's a mysterious gas that's passing through the forest. We have to get out of here before it affects us. We should call a truce for now." Izuku spoke clearly and concisely.

"Right." She turned to Izuku. Without a moment to lose they all broke into a run toward one of the cliffs.

"What happened, Potter-kun?" he asked.

"That has to be one of the Isami student's Quirk. One of them shot mug—missiles at us and the gas appeared not long after." They made it past the clearing and up one of the winding paved steps of the cliff.

"Todoroki-kun!" Izuku called out, looking down at the other team. They were on one of the steps below them, a paving that was about five meters underneath theirs.

"Midoriya," the boy said in reply, but never slowed his run. "This is no time for fighting."

"Right!" Midoriya nodded. His hair beat against his forehead as he ran.

"Do you know what that gas is?"

Tonks stopped her run and got on her knees at the edge of the raised cliff. She held out her hand. "It's one of the Isami kids' Quirk! Grab on and I'll pull you up."

"Thank you, Potter-kun!" a voice seemingly appeared out of nowhere. A floating glove grabbed onto her hand and Tonks pulled, carrying more weight than she could see. With a heave, she managed to pull the girl up completely. The other members of Izuku's team helped with the other kids, but a large slab of ice shot up from the ground and created a path straight up the cliff. The boy that fought Harry in the sports festival effortlessly stepped off.

"Or you can do that," Tonks mumbled, slightly breathless and cold from the presence of the boy. A soft chuckle left her lips. "Show off." Heterochromatic eyes glanced toward her when she said those words and held her gaze with a flat expression. For a second she wondered if she had insulted him somehow by saying that. She opened her mouth to apologize for a second but was cut off.

"What are you looking at, Deku-kun?" Uraraka asked. They made it to the top of the cliff and overlooked the edge. There were footsteps that exited the forest and from here they could see from boot to knee before the rest of the shadows covered the rest.

"Someone's coming!" Izuku said. "Did they escape the gas too?"

"Hey, that's Bakugou!" Jiro commented, looking at Harry. "Potter is that your team?"

"Heeeeyyyy!" Uraraka cried out, her voice echoing. She waved her hands. "Over here!" They all stared down as heavy footsteps drew closer and closer.

"Wait—" Tonks stopped and took a step back. "If they were where I last left them, that was where the gas was strongest—Uraraka-chan, stop! They're—"

Pale, grey, and lifeless Bakugou, Yaoyorozu, Kirishima, and Shoji left the forest while yelling listlessly.

"Z-Z-Z-Zombies?!" Uraraka and Izuku cried. With that cry, even more of their zombified classmates exited the forest, with the same pale face and dark shadows across their face. Tonks squinted and recognized that even the guests were zombies too.

 _It's barely the second day of school and I'm already dealing with zombies?!_ Tonks thought, almost dropping her jaw in disbelief. _Those muggle movies were really right?_

"Habuko-chan!" Tsuyu gasped, her tone drooping with shock and sadness when she saw her zombified friend.

"They're still using their Quirk—even when zombified!" Izuku said, his expression frozen in horror. Iida constantly ran against a tree, Yaoyorozu made piles and piles of those matryoshka dolls, Sero spun tape like it was the last day on earth. But considering how every zombie movie ended, maybe he was right after all. A footstep ran against the dirt in the ground and they all spun around in various levels of battle readiness.

The student from Isami High was there, cackling at them madly.

"How about that, huh?!" he laughed. A shadow stepped behind him, but he was too busy gloating to notice. Uraraka and Izuku wordlessly pointed with shocked faces. "U.A. isn't all that much—"

 _Chomp._

" _OOHHH MAH GAWD_." Zombified Bakugou released the student's shoulder from his jaw and the Isami student fell to the ground knees first with his butt sticking out. Tonks go in front of the crowd and held a hand protectively in front of Izuku.

"Wait, he's—"

The student twitched before raising his now pale head and moaning like a ghost.

"It's just like the movies!" Izuku cried.

"The rest of them are climbing up!" Todoroki yelled out, and the remainder of the group jumped into action. They went back to back and closed off the group. His white boot dug into the ground and a streak of ice shot out at the zombies, freezing them to their spots. They almost let out a collective breath of relief until Bakugou broke his knee out of the ice and Yaoyorozu paved through like it was paper. A human scream shot out.

"Ojiro-kun! Hagakure-chan!" Izuku cried out, but only two zombies remained in their place.

"Uh." Ashido pointed at the invisible girl. The chaos paused for a second. "She is a zombie right?"

"They got Jiro!" Uraraka screeched, putting that frantic energy back in full throttle, dashing away from the earphone jack girl. Her earlobes carelessly extended and shot out at random angles while she groaned and slouched forward.

"And Koda!" shouted Ashido, her voice lifting up with a high pitch. They all turned toward the animal lover.

"He's still silent as a zombie!" Izuku said, eyebrow twitching.

Tonks turned from using _Petrificus Totalus_ on the one with the bird's head and the one with the tail when some screams became louder. The two zombies in front of her dropped like rocks, their hands stuck to their torso and their bodies as straight as a plank.

The zombified girl from Isami High repeatedly beat on the boy from Harry's class that look like he had grapes growing out of his head. He was stuck to her side like a koala, but had a hand grossly gripped onto her breast.

 _Now I'm positive he's the pervert._

"Mineta-kun, such tenacity!" Izuku couldn't help but say, gaping at the sight in front of him. Tonk's eyes narrowed and twitched.

"Hey, Izuku-kun," Tonks said, an eerie calm covering her like a veil. The boy turned to her and she pointed at the grape kid. "Hold him down."

"E-Eh?" the green-haired boy said. "W-Why?" Not only did Izuku have to get in between two zombies, but didn't Harry have a Quirk that he could use?

"I'm going to drop kick him into the next prefecture." Her face was flat and she said it so pointedly that Izuku almost believed her, much to his fear. They could almost see the animation of the play-by-play of Harry kicking Mineta like an American football into the stratosphere.

"W-Wait, Harry-kun! Go easy on him!" He hurriedly waved his hands around before Harry could go through with his threat.

"Hey, what should we do?" Ashido called out, turning back to him.

"We have to get out of here!" Izuku said. "Come on!" Harry and Todoroki paved through the zombies that were in their way and slid down the slide of the cliff for an easy getaway. On the way down Tsuyu had tripped on a rock and fallen, causing a loud crash and scream from her and the rest of the group.

"Tsuyu-chan!" She snapped her head up and spotted some zombies already making their way toward them like every horror movie Tonks had ever seen.

"Harry-kun, wait!" Izuku held his hand out as Tonks dashed forward. Tonks immediately ran up and scooped the girl up into a bridal carry, mindful that the frog girl might have an injured ankle. She exhaled once the girl was in her arms, having spells like Feather-light Charm and Wingardium Leviosa did no favors for her upper body strength, so even carrying the girl like this was a bit of a challenge.

"Are you alright?" Tonks asked, looking down at the girl.

"I—" The faintest pink color streaked across her cheeks.

"Potter, watch out!" Todoroki shouted before there was suddenly a cresting wave of ice that curved around them like a wall. Past the transparent ice Tonks could see zombies mindlessly pound against the nice, no doubt a close save. She turned to the Ice-Fire Quirk boy and smiled with a sigh.

"Thanks!"

"Come on!" Izuku called when it was clear, waving his hand and they were on the run again.

They made a break past the clearing, but then a voice echoed throughout the forest and the sun was eclipsed.

"Do not worry!" the voice said, and Tonks knew that there was no other dead ringer for those American Hero voices. They somersaulted and landed with a perfect ten out of ten into the ground in front of them. A dust cloud picked up and wind scattered past them from the landing. "Why? I am her— _ACK_!"

A small, malnourished man with large blond hair and dark, deep-set eyes spewed blood in front of them.

Izuku looked like he was having a crisis right beside her.

"Ahh!" Ashido and Uraraka screamed, gripping onto each other. "A stranger turned into a zombie!" In no time at all, they grabbed Izuku by the back of his shirt and dragged him along while Todoroki and Tonks jogged beside him.

They managed to make it to the other end of the forest and into a cave. Todoroki didn't hesitate to immediately cover the opening of the cave with a blanket of ice to make a good cover for them, plunging the cave in darkness.

Tonks wondered if she should put up some charms and wait it out until the professors finally called it quits on this Survival Exercise.

"Here," Tonks finally said, crouching down so that Tsuyu could step off. "Do your legs hurt?"

"Yes." Tsuyu easily climbed off. "But it is only a sprain, I can handle it. Thank you, Potter-chan."

"If it's a sprain then I can help a bit." Tonks conjured up a roll of bandages and made it look like she pulled it from her pockets, unraveling them then asking Tsuyu to sit still while she tended to the injury. Harry told her not to use Episkey, but she could do this much.

She looked up and noticed a sad look on Tsuyu's large eyes.

"What's wrong?" the Hufflepuff asked, voice softening. Tsuyu's eyes snapped toward her, almost with wonder that Tonks caught on. She tilted her head and fixed her expression in a way that told the fifteen-year-old in front of her that it was okay.

"H-Habuko-chan…" was the only thing Tsuyu managed to say in that broken, croaky voice of hers.

"Hey," Tonks said gently. "It's going to be alright. After we make a plan and get out of here we'll save her. I promise." Tonks showed her a Hero-studded smile, and the other girls were in awe for a second.

Potter Harry had always been closed off, friendly, but never too close.

"I'm sure of it!" Tonks nodded, topping the sentence with full confidence.

This was a bit different.

"Wow, Potter-kun!" Ashido said, coming up to Tonk's side. "That was so big-brotherly of you!"

"Yeah!" Uraraka joined in. "I'm impressed! Do you have a younger sibling?"

"Ah no, I'm an only child." As "Harry" continued to chat with the girls and finished wrapping up Tsuyu's ankle, he missed the way Izuku's eyes flickered toward him, deep emotion fogging up those green eyes of his.

Was this really Harry?

Did they—two European girls, the fear in Harry's eyes, Harry's text calling for a rain check—did they take Harry away from him somehow?

The person in front of them certainly looked like Harry, down to the scar on his forehead and the leaf-colored specks of his eyes. But he didn't hold himself like Harry, didn't guard himself like the boy did.

What started out as a creeping feeling built upon light suspicion only grew by the hour. It wasn't like saying the sun rose today or the sky was blue. Izuku had no proof, and it didn't seem like this not-Harry had any ulterior motives.

As zombies came for them and Todoroki blazed through the ice wall that he made, and as Izuku punched through the crowd of the undead, it stayed on his mind; as they turned back to normal, and as Bakugou beat him into a pulp, it stayed on his mind.

Covered in bandages and stuck in the infirmary for who knows how long, it stayed on his mind.

Potter Harry may have been sitting by his bedside this entire time, napping and talking with the boy, but with every passing word and every behavior tick, Midoriya Izuku realized for sure that his sneaking suspicion was correct. His hands clenched into fists underneath a sea of bandages and casts.

He had no proof, he wasn't sure if anyone would believe him, but he knew his new brother like how the sun was going to rise today.

 _The real Harry's not here._

That fear didn't leave him for the rest of the month.

* * *

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, instantly throwing her arms around him when they were in the privacy of the Room of Requirement. Harry let out a breath that he didn't know that he was holding and almost slumped in his best friend's arm like he had no bones in his body. He wound his arms around her and exhaled.

"I missed you too, Hermione," he said, relief flooding his voice like a hurricane She released him from her hold and held him at an arm's width, beaming like there's no tomorrow.

"Good to have you back, mate," Ron said, patting Harry's shoulder as he dropped Harry's single trunk on the bed. The Room of Requirement was different than what he was used to, but he guessed that was what happened to a room that was forever changing.

It used to be their training room, but now it looked like an antique shop, filled from corner to endless corner of a cluster of the most random objects with no set order to how they were placed. But they only asked the room for a place to stay since Harry couldn't just waltz back into the Gryffindor Common Room no matter how much he wanted to. He was given a bed, and he guessed that was all he needed.

It was like being back home after a long vacation, and Harry guessed that was what that was. That hustle and bustle that he had in U.A. was suddenly replaced with a breath of familiar air and a lethargy in his bones. He felt like doing nothing more than to sit in the Great Hall with a meal from the house elves and head over to Transfiguration class.

"We have so much to tell you!" Hermione laughed, and even though it was past midnight, she dragged him and Ron to his bed and started to tell him everything that he missed. Even though they kept in contact through the two-way mirror, there was still so much to say.

Small things like Ginny dating Dean, to the load of chocolate frogs that Ron bought after Honeydukes restocked. Harry gave them some of the gifts from Japan he'd been saving up through the months: things like Musutafu omiyage for Hermione and strange snacks from the konbinis for Ron.

He was gone for over half the year, but it felt like he never left.

Before they knew it, they were talking all night long, and the sun was already about to coast over the horizon.

Harry was in the middle of laughing at one of Ron's stories while the boy blushed from ear to ear when one of the grandfather clocks in the room rang so loudly that it left a ring in Harry's ear.

"It's six in the morning already," Hermione said, twisting her head to stare at the arms on the clock. Large, brown curls bounced with the movement when she turned that head back to Ron. "We have Prefect duties, Ron."

He made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. "Already?" The redhead visibly slumped beside him.

Hermione didn't hesitate to grab Ron's ear in an iron hold. "Yes, Ronald. How is the house going to hold up without their Prefects?"

"It's not like they're full of toddlers—Ow! Fine!"

They turned back to Harry, but then stopped short when they saw his large smile.

They were worried.

Harry was across the world without anyone to watch him except for Hedwig. He was hot-tempered and irritable in his fifth year, but even when they knew that it was due to Voldemort's influence, their stress didn't wane. Harry's knack for running into dangerous situations never changed, and after the death of Sirius Harry was even more unsettled. In Japan, it didn't help that Harry was getting injured every other week, facing villains and classmates left and right, breaking his arms, legs and whatever else. Hermione would've had the heart to protest earlier, but it was obvious in his body language and the way that he spoke that Harry was happy being at U.A. Hogwarts was his first home, but Hermione realized that it never meant that it had to be his only home. This Izuku Midoriya that he spoke fondly of proved that.

Hermione and Ron had to head to class not long later, but Harry was already mentally preparing himself for the plan.

He'd have to stay in the Room of Requirement during the day to avoid anyone finding him, and Hermione or Ron would come to him during their free time to give him his meals or to just talk. It was during the night that he would be able to leave the Room of Requirement; but when curfew hit, that was when he had to go to Dumbledore's office.

He plopped down on the bed with a large exhale and soon enough his eyes fluttered to a close when the jetlag caught up to him.

It was going to be a while before he could go to U.A. again.

* * *

 _A/N:_

The next couple of chapters is going to cover Harry's experiences with a couple of splashes of Tonk's POV here and there, but this is the part where major canon divergence happens (or will happen). Here are some of the minor canon divergences that have happened so far: Harry doesn't have any feelings for Ginny. He started to fall for her when he stayed at the Burrow the beginning of the sixth year and during the school year. Since he wasn't present for any of that, he currently isn't attracted to her. Also, Tonks (as Harry) was the one who convinced Slughorn to teach again, and Ron and Hermione haven't been arguing as much as they did in canon since they're both focused on Harry.

Also, it's pretty difficult to write Tonks at this moment in time. She's depressed from Remus constantly rejecting her feelings, but during her small interactions with Harry in the book, she attempts to seem happy. She also doesn't know a lot about Harry's personality outside the reservedness he had at the Dursleys and his anger when his temper goes off. She mostly sees him comfortable and happy around Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys, so she uses that as a guiding point in trying to act like him.

And I've been loving the Hogwarts Mystery game so I had to add a reference!

I've also had some comments from the beginning of the fic talking about how weak Harry seems, and _it won't stay this way_. Harry is a sixteen-year-old boy with no physical fighting experience and he's been struggling with how to use his magic in its arm brace. It's not a matter of how strong he is in the wizarding world, but it seemed obvious to me that he wouldn't be able to hold himself against someone like the League of Villains who have a different fighting style than wizards….


	20. Chapter Nineteen

An old grandfather clock chimed so loudly that it echoed throughout the Room of Requirement like an earthquake. Harry's eyes were open and he was up in bed in a heartbeat. With his chest being hammered from the inside out and his hair sticking straight up from his skull, his eyes scanned his surroundings like a hunter looking for its prey.

He half expected to be back in his hotel room, nothing but a scatter of his belongings and low furniture against light walls and flooring—or expected to see All Might posters and memorabilia stretch from wall to wall. Instead he only had a darkened room filled with furniture that was covered by white sheets.

It was midnight, he realized, picking up his glasses from the bedside table and placing them on his face. His eyes squinted at the arms on the clock before falling back on his lap. He didn't even remember falling asleep. One moment he was laying down on his bed, and the next half of the day had already past. His legs swung over the edge of the bed and he prepared for another part of the day.

As he put on his shoes and fixed the state of his hair, one sentence repeated throughout his mind.

I'm going to see Professor Dumbledore again.

The halls were dark and the castle was silent.

It was curfew, the prefects and didn't make their rounds through here, and the paintings were asleep.

His wand was lit at the tip with Lumos and his Marauder's Map and his eyes carefully roamed the halls that he used to know so well. They went up and down every corner and crevice like he was scanning spines of books in a library.

His heart felt full.

There certainly wasn't any eye-opening moment, an ache in his chest, but it felt like he had finally returned home after a long vacation. All those doubts he had while he was in Japan seemingly didn't exist anymore. Hogwarts really was his home after all.

Then again, so were the Midoriyas.

Ignoring the guilt bubbling under his ribcage, he finally tuned to the gargoyle guarding the gates and muttered out the password into the silence of the halls.

With a whisper of "chocoballs" the gargoyle's granite eyes finally landed on his small form before it stepped aside.

He made it up the staircase without looking back.

The office hadn't changed a bit. Magical items still covered every visible space on tabletops, and the room was covered floor to ceiling with leather-bound books. Despite being late in the night, the office was still lit with a bright golden glow, but the sunroof was dotted with bright stars above.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he finally whispered, his voice raspy after saying that name after what seemed like forever. When no one answered, he echoed it again, casting a nervous glance at the snoozing portraits of the previous headmasters.

No response.

A rustle was heard from around the corner and Harry dove for it at quick speed, like a child running after their parent, but when those lips opened up again to echo Dumbledore's name again, he was only met with the sight of Fawkes, the phoenix.

Tall, and bright red with thick and rich plumage, the phoenix was obviously well into another rebirth at his prime. The bird let out a soft cry before twirling his body on the bird's perch and ruffling his feathers back into place.

When those dark eyes landed on him, he resisted the urge to flinch under the heavy gaze.

"Hello, Fawkes," he whispered, eyes lit with awe. In a second, Fawkes spread his wings far and wide, and Harry knew that look of a bird taking flight. On instinct he held out his arm as a perch and those heavy talons were gripping his sleeve in a blink of an eye. Gently raising a finger, he carefully stroked the bird's breast feathers. "It's good to see you again," he stated, voice soft and sincere.

Fawkes shook off his finger and he dropped his free hand. His head tilted in confusion as the phoenix curiously poked and prodded at his chest and his neck with the bird's own head and beak.

"H-Hey…!" he exclaimed softly when Fawkes gave a particularly hard nudge on his chest. He stumbled back from the headbutt and held the bird further away from his body.

"I've been away for awhile," he eventually said. "Japan. Musutafu," the wizard stated. "Have you been there before?"

The phoenix only stared into his eyes curiously.

It felt strange, talking to a bird like this, especially to one unresponsive unlike Hedwig, who always wanted to let her opinion have a place, but he was a kid in a candy store. Surrounded by all the magic that he loved and grew up with, he was taking it all in with a greediness he didn't know he had.

"You probably did, with someone as old as you," he finally said. Apparently done with the one-sided conversation, Fawkes raised his wings again and Harry dropped his arm, watching once more as the phoenix swooped around the room before disappearing into another corner.

He continued his snooping.

He slowly crept along the office, one foot in front of the other with careful ease that came from years of sneaking into the Dursley's kitchen after dark. A book of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them on the desk, a Sneakoscope underneath weathered parchment, Dumbledore's famous Deluminator on the table.

And finally, a gentle blue glow that rippled like moonlight on a lake. He stepped closer, stood alongside it and peered down.

An inkling feeling settled on the bottom of his stomach, staying idle like a lion in a cage. He got closer, close enough for that blue light to reflect along his glasses and then he saw that foggy swirl churning without liquid. He inched closer, and closer and—

 _An elderly man, oddly proportioned; broad shoulders and overlong arms._

 _"Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh? Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of pure-bloods, wizards all—more than you can say, I don't doubt!"_

 _. . ._

 _"She likes looking at that Muggle. Always in the garden when he passes, peering through the hedge at him, isn't she? And last night—hanging out of the window waiting for him to ride home, wasn't she?"_

 _"I got him as he went by and he didn't look so pretty with hives all over him, did he, Merope?"_

 _. . ._

 _"The Quirk things are appearing left and right—but that Tom—" The nanny at Wool's orphanage leaned closer to the younger Dumbledore, craning her head to look up at him, her nose was inches away from his orange spotted tie. "There_ has _been incidents with the other children…"_

 _. . ._

 _"That's quite a peculiar Quirk you have there, Tom—"_

 _"It's not a Quirk," the boy insisted, face souring at the mention of his name. He was small, skinny, dark haired with dark eyes, but despite his state of dress and the hollowness of his cheeks, the traces of the boy's handsomeness lingered._

 _This was Tom Riddle._

 _"Oh?" Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "What makes you say that?"_

 _Tom Riddle peered back at him with dark brown eyes, nearly coals in the light. "That glowing baby from China… The boy with the night vision… I'm not one of them." Tom straightened up but never took his eyes off the headmaster. There was a flush on his skinny cheeks and those coals gleamed. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt if I want to... I can speak to snakes too. They find me, they whisper to me."_

 _His leg trembled with excitement. He leaned forward, head bent until it nearly looked like he was in_ a prayer _._

 _"I'm different from those Quirk kids."_

 _"Yes," Dumbledore eventually said, "you're a wizard."_

A hand grasped Harry's shoulder and yanked him out of the memory, and he gasped like he was without air, but his hair wasn't wet, nor was his skin or his clothes from the dive in the Pensieve.

He whipped around, and itching for his wand, but he was face to face with those star-patterned robes, that long, white beard and he stopped himself.

"P-Professor…!" he asked, glasses askew. His jaw falling at the sight of the most powerful wizard.

"Harry, my boy." Professor Dumbledore stood in front of him and folded his arms in front of him. His voice was laced with sincerity and familiarity.

 _"Young Harry!"_

Harry nearly fell back and knocked into the Pensieve. The bowl rattled and tipped precariously and he would've fallen completely if it weren't for the iron-tight grip of his arm, holding him like a puppet on a string. Dumbledore carefully pulled him back upright and he stood there.

"You—you knew about this?" he gasped out, chest rising and falling, eyes blinking over glassy orbs, mouth opening and closing—he looked as if he just drowned. There wasn't a moment to lose. No hugs, no exclamations, no eyes filled with love for his professor—not like how things used to be. He gestured helplessly to the pensive. "You knew about this...and you didn't tell me…?" His voice raised in pitch, but lowered in volume, hitting those inflictions that expressed his disbelief—his betrayal.

Something like this was monumental. Tom Riddle— _Voldemort's_ —past was something that Harry always knew that Dumbledore knew, but it never crossed his mind. The Slytherin's horrific downfall, Tom Riddle's mother and his absent father, a life inside the orphanage. Harry couldn't understand why something this significant was held back from him. Seeing it now, on his own accord, struck something with him. Maybe it was the absence, or Harry had it in him this entire time.

"Harry—" Dumbledore's voice was kind. Harry imagined seeing his professor again multiple times in his head. In some daydreams, Dumbledore was disappointed, in others he was understanding—as Dumbledore always was, and in scarcer quantities, Dumbledore was truly angry. He never imagined their reunion to be like this—and it hurt so much. Harry respected and loved Dumbledore like no other.

"You had so many opportunities to tell me, Professor! About this...whatever this is!" Harry wondered if he was spending too much time with Izuku, because his eyes started to water.

Dumbledore sighed, a light, airy breath, before walking forward and placing a hand on the rim of the Pensieve, staring wistfully into the luminescent contents. Harry didn't move from his spot.

"I understand why you are upset, Harry," Dumbledore stated. "And I'm sorry I disappointed you. It was never my intention to leave you in the dark." He dropped his hand and it disappeared underneath the shimmer fabric of his sleeve once more. "I'm also greatly sorry for the loss of your neighbor. Mrs. Figg has informed me on multiple occasions that he was very important to you." His voice was soft and genuine, and his eyes shined underneath those half-moon spectacles.

"...Thank you," Harry finally muttered after he has calmed down, his eyes downcast. Staying with the Midoriyas almost made him forgot about his guilt and his loss for Mr. Midoriya. Midoriya-san's kind words, Izuku's shy encouragement—Harry took it all in and stayed with them at the moment. Then he thought about Sirius and the Department of Mysteries to his almost routine meeting with Dumbledore at the end of the year. "At the end of the last term you said you were going to tell me everything…" He lifted his eyes up to meet Dumbledore's. It was hard to keep the tone of accusation away from his voice, but Harry couldn't help but think that his behavior now was legions better than his quick temper last year. "Sir," he quickly added.

"And so I did," Dumbledore said patiently. "I told you everything I knew. I debated long and hard on what was the right time to finally tell you what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information." He paused. "I believed that this year was finally the time for us to be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork.

"I apologize in advance for the long night that is to come, you must be horribly jetlagged. But…I planned horribly...I never thought that the pressure of guilt and loss would prompt you to run."

 _"There's nothing wrong with running away...Young Potter!"_

Dumbledore shook his head. "From here on in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

"But you think you're right?" said Harry.

"Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being—forgive me—rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly

Huger."

"Sir," said Harry tentatively, "does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me...survive?" He might have been a lot stronger physically, a lot more tactile with all of the Hero lessons that he was given, but he couldn't just go up and punch Lord Voldemort across the face to claim a victory. Even if he wanted to.

"It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy," said Dumbledore, as casually as if Harry had asked him about the next day's weather, "and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive." He tapped the Pensieve again, and it was then Harry noticed that the fingers on Dumbledore's hand were blackened and shriveled. Harry opened his mouth to ask, and the wizened professor followed his line of sight and knew, but cut him off. "The first memory you saw was Bob Ogdens's."

Professor explained that he was a deceased worker from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and right after he was attacked in the memory and had the fight with the Gaunt men he Apparated to the Ministry and brought back reinforcements to arrest the father and the son.

"The older man's name was Marvolo—"

"Wait, Marvolo?" Harry repeated wonderingly.

"That's right," said Dumbledore, smiling in approval. "I am glad to see you're keeping up."

"That old man was—?"

"Voldemort's grandfather, yes," said Dumbledore. "Marvolo, his son, Morfin, and his daughter, Merope." Dumbledore went on to tell Harry that they were the last of the Gaunts, an ancient wizarding family with a nasty temper.

Voldemort's past was unraveled then. The woman, the frail, sickly woman in the memory was Voldemort's mother and the man that they had attacked, the one riding on the horse was Voldemort's father—a muggle. Together, they unraveled the fact that Merope used a love potion to snare in Tom Riddle Sr. Her love for him trumped logic, and soon after she became pregnant with what would soon grow up to be Lord Voldemort, she stopped giving Riddle Sr. the potion. He left her and she died shortly after giving birth and dropping Voldemort off at an orphanage. She was in London, starving and cold before she sold the famous Slytherin Locket for a mere ten Galleons to a man named Caractacus Burke.

Merope had given up magic in the face of her unwilling husband's abandonment, and then her own life despite her son.

"The next memory you saw, Harry, was my own," Dumbledore stated. He had gone to Tom's orphanage to recruit the boy into Hogwarts himself, and Tom was quick to accept that he was different from the other kids—much faster than Harry when Hagrid first told him, and Riddle had already exhibited signs of intelligence, friendlessness, and pride at that young age. His tendency of taking trophies from the other orphan kids that he hurt was an obvious sign of unnatural tendencies.

"Now. Harry...there is one last memory, and possibly the most important out of all of them, I want you to look at for tonight… This is the memory of Professor Horace Slughorn. He is the new Potions professor for this term, and speaks highly of you, Harry…." Dumbledore pulled out a shimmering memory from the many on the shelf and uncorked it before swirling it into the Pensieve. He leaned forward, but paused right before the glow of the silvery surface illuminated his face. His blue eyes stared on at him, and his hand was outstretched. "Will you join me, my boy?"

Harry exhaled, and closed his eyes before diving into the silver surface.

 _Slughorn was a middle-aged man with peppery, gingery-blond hair with a growing bald patch and a mustache that covered his entire upper lip. The suit and waistcoat that he was wearing were underneath obvious strain. He was sitting at the end of a long table that was surrounded by teenage boys that were on harder and lower seats than his. Harry turned his head and Dumbledore was standing beside him as they stood inside the potion professor's office._

 _Tom Riddle was the easiest to pick out. He was the most handsome of them all, with an easy smirk and relaxed shoulders while the boys around him were wound like a coil and were laughing boisterously with each other._

Harry's eyes narrowed upon spotting Tom's hand that rested on the arm of the chair. He was wearing the same gold-and-black ring that Marvolo Gaunt wore and—

"Yes," Dumbledore answered without Harry asking. "This is after Tom has murdered his own father."

Harry's green eyes fell on Dumbledore's own hand.

It was the same ring that Voldemort was wearing.

 _Tom asked Slughorn about the retirement of a certain professor, and the aging man tutted before remarking on Tom's ability to know about all of the rumors in the castle and his sharp wit. The boys around them laughed once more and elbowed Tom in a joking manner, yet there wasn't a doubt that they all looked at him like Tom was a god on Earth. Riddle purposely fixed his face so that he would look modest._

 _Then something strange happened; the room filled with fog once more, and the memory shifted so it appeared as if all of the men in the memory fell back on their chairs before collapsing on the floor in grey smoke. The smoke churned and pulled together once more as it reformed to shape Slughorn and Tom Riddle once more, but this time they were alone._

 _"Look sharp, Tom," said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a_ prefect _. . ."_

 _"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."_

 _"Ask away, then,_ m'boy _, ask away. . . ."_

 _"Sir, I wondered what you know about . . . about Horcruxes?"_

 _And it happened all over again: The dense fog filled the room so that Harry could not see Slughorn or Voldemort at all; only Dumbledore, smiling serenely beside him. Then Slughorn's voice boomed out again, just as it had done before._

 _"I don't know anything about Horcruxes and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"_

"That's all there is?" said Harry blankly when he was roughly pulled out of the memory, his legs landing harshly on the floor of Dumbledore's office. The professor said that this was the most important memory, and yet it was just Voldemort not getting an answer to the question that he wanted.

"As you could tell from the fog…" Dumbledore lifted up the memory above his head and glanced at the silvery liquid in the lights. "The memory has been tampered with."

"Tampered with?" repeated Harry, sitting back down too.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."

"But why would he do that?"

"Because, I think, he is ashamed of what he remembers," said Dumbledore. "He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations." Dumbledore placed the near-empty vial back in the shelf and they arranged themselves automatically. He turned to Harry again and the Gryffindor resisted the urge to flinch in face of his professor. "I'm sorry to put you up to this, Harry. You've been through a lot this year, even at the muggle Hero school in Japan."

"Y-You know about that?" Harry stuttered out.

"Of course." The professor walked over to his desk and Harry followed in a daze. "We did not do anything, because we believed that you were content in Japan. I may have made a lot of mistakes in my life…" There was a moment where Dumbledore hesitated. "But I hope that neglecting you and the status of your life is not one of them."

Villain attacks, the Sports Festival, Hosu—Dumbledore really sat and watched as Harry fumbled like a newborn over those?

"Though, with the current situation at hand, I have to apologize, Harry, because for the first time, I am giving you homework. It will be your job to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information of all. After you retain the memory and view it. I will give you the decision on whether you want to stay at U.A….or go back to Hogwarts. It is your choice."

Harry stared at him. "Wha...but surely you can use Legilimency...or Veritaserum...or both!"

Dumbledore gently let Harry's suggestion down by stating that Slughorn was an extremely competent and talented wizard who had already expected the two options. Getting the memory by force was foolish as well, and was immediately taken off the drawing board before Harry could even recommend it. By this time, Harry turned his head and spotted the slightest signs of the sun peeking over the horizon.

"But you...Harry...you've always had a talent of getting what you want...and for people to admire you. I believe that you have the ability to get the true memory. Time is of the essence, and I decided that after seeing your Sports Festival that this was the ripest moment to teach you about these before the year slips away from us."

After mulling over his thoughts and seeing the rising sun, Harry turned to the professor that has loved so much throughout the years.

"I'll do it."

"Thank you, my boy." There was that twinkle in his eyes again.

"But, sir...could I tell Ron and Hermione?"

"Yes, I think Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have proved themselves trustworthy. But Harry, I am going to ask you to ask them not to repeat any of this to anybody else. It would not be a good idea if word got around how much I know, or suspect, about Lord Voldemort's secrets," Dumbledore said after some consideration.

"I trust Ron and Hermione with my life," Harry said with firmness, "and they're the only people I would ever tell something like this to."

"It is getting early, Harry. I dare say that it is time for you to return to the Room of Requirement, or the early morning Prefects might catch you—and dare I say, some of the portraits that are more prone to gossip."

"Thank you, sir." Harry held up a piece of silken fabric that shifted before their eyes. "I brought my Invisibility Cloak."

"Well then, it has been a long day and night for you—rest up—"

"Sir," Harry addressed, finally catching the tail end of their long lesson.

"Hm?"

"Is that ring that you're wearing…" Black and gold glittered underneath the lights in the office and the first rays of sunlight, "the same one from the memory?"

"The exact same," Dumbledore assured.

"Then how did you—"

"Too late, Harry! You shall hear the story another time. Make sure you get some rest."

"...Good night, sir." Harry bowed his head and started to head out of the office. Fawkes peeked down from his post as he walked toward the door.

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yes, sir?" Harry turned around almost instantly, and answered almost too eagerly.

"It almost slipped my mind that Sirius left everything to you in his will. The Black family fortune and Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

There was silence throughout the office, and then the sound of the door creaking and metal squeaking as Harry's grip on the doorknob became like a deathhold.

"...Good night, sir."

With that, he left.

. . .

As the sun finally rose above Hogwarts, he wondered how Tonks and Izuku were doing on the other side of the world.

Tonks exhaled and scratched her head filled with wild, jet black strands as she stared at her math equation.

She didn't graduate Hogwarts and choose the least math-related job just to do math again. She thought that she left it behind. Nevermind the fact that the Translation Charm only worked verbally, and she had to apply another charm on all of her papers and books so that she would be able to read Japanese. Even if Kaminari, the guy who was visibly struggling in front of the class, at least it was because he knew that he had the right to be confused from what he was reading, not that he was struggling over the language like she was.

The bell finally rang she felt like an overblown balloon just deflated. She gradually slumped over her desk as Ectoplasm, a pretty cool professor whose appearance she has never tried to replicate before, excused himself and the class started to buzz as the students left for lunch.

"Potter-chan, you looked like you were struggling," a croaky voice beside him said.

"A-Ah!" "Harry" quickly turned his head and saw Tsuyu sitting in the desk beside him with an inquisitive look on her face. "Tsu-chan! You saw that?"

She nodded once. "You looked like you were on the same level as Kaminari."

"Hey! At least I'm trying!" Kaminari called out from his desk as he started to get ready for lunch. "Don't be so mean!"

Tonks scratched her head. "I'm just struggling with reading some of the characters… I don't really know what the question is asking yet…"

"Hm?" It was the guy with the bird's head speaking up now. Tokoyami. Together, the three of them gathered their stuff and started to head to the cafeteria. "You never showed any issues with reading your assignments or papers before…."

"I usually hide it better," Tonks lied, "but with the exams coming up...the reality of it all is hitting me…."

The two nodded and started to give him advice on what he should do with the upcoming exams. Whether it be to ask one of them for help with reading, one of the higher-scoring students, or to get extra lessons from the teachers to help him get better marks. Tonks nodded along, saying that "he" had supplementary textbooks and worksheets that were helping him along the way.

It didn't really matter to Tonks. She knew that Harry's scores were important to him, but she was only going to be here for a short amount of time, and she already planned to cheat for him with the Cribbing Spell on the written portion of the exam. For the physical portion, she could easily wing it.

"Hey, Potter-kun!" Sero waved from one of the tables as Tonks walked by with her tray of mixed tempura and rice from Lunch Rush. She turned and tilted her head as she walked closer.

"It's so strange to see you in the cafeteria! Heh! You're full of surprises these weeks aren't you?" Kaminari asked.

"Oh, really?" Tonks nearly dropped her tray out of nerves, but Kirishima propped it up from the bottom with his hand and Ashido cheekily took several pieces of fried shrimp. "I-I guess after Hosu I just wanted to spend more time with my classmates," she lied again.

"Yeah!" The girl with pink hair and the pink skin pumped her fist in the air. "Eating Lunch Rush's food and sitting with us has to be more exciting than eating the konbini's onigiri and eating alone in the classroom!"

"Yeah, sit with us! Bakugou is getting his food now, but he'll be joining us too!" Kirishima said, gesturing to the other empty seat beside him. He was all smiles and grins.

"Harry" laughed. "Yeah! I'd love to sit next to…"

Her eyes drifted to a table at the end of the cafeteria, and realized that she had locked eyes with Izuku Midoriya. He was staring at him with wide green eyes and furrowed brows. His lips were turned down, and Tonks was at a loss for words. She totally forgot that she promised to look after him for Harry too—she took an uneven step in their direction of the room. Did Harry use to sit with them? Was this Izuku feeling neglected because of her?

Little did she know, at the end of the room, Izuku had been turned around in his seat for a while now, with Izuku's hand firmly planted on the back of his chair as he stared intently at "Harry's" figure from across the room. Todoroki sat across from him, cool eyes firmly planted on Harry. His katsudon had gone cold, but he didn't care.

This was just another mark in the inaccuracies.

It used to be because of his anti-socialness, but Harry used to sit in the classrooms during lunch. While Izuku had always offered to have Harry sit with them during lunch after they realized their relationship with one another, Harry always turned him down in favor of spending time with Hedwig.

Harry also never bought food from Lunch Rush. Harry said that it was to save money, but Izuku knew the truth. Harry's stomach had never grown big enough to stomach one full portion of food.

Tonks stood up straighter, nearly tripping when she tried to walk backwards too quickly. "Actually—I think that I'll sit with Midoriya-kun—!" Tonks wheeled around, but immediately crashed into someone else, and knocked into a tray and dish with her elbow in the progress. The crash was loud enough to alert everyone in the cafeteria.

Bakugou stood in front of her, eyes shadowed by his spiky bangs as his school uniform dripped with a light brown from his curry, and was speckled with white from his rice. Pieces dripped down onto the ground and it seemed like it was loud enough to create a sonic boom.

The table behind her was frozen in fear like a snapshot at a horror movie. The room was silent.

Immediately Kirishima stepped out of his seat and ran in between Bakugou and Harry, arms waving frantically.

"H-Hey! Here…!" Kirishima frantically tried to pat some of the curry off with a napkin. "I-It was a total accident, right, Bakugou? Hahaha!" He laughed nervously and started to sweat as if he was under a desert sun. The blond in front of her was still completely unresponsive. "I-it's totally cool, guys! You can all return to your lunches! A-And Potter-kun, maybe it's best if you go sit down—"

Hands immediately pushed Kirishima away and grabbed at her collar. He pulled her close until she was nearly nose to nose with Bakugou. There were chairs scraping against the floor and she didn't need to crane her neck to know that it was Izuku and his friends. In the background, she could hear some blond guy from Class 1-B laugh at them boisterously.

"Bakugou-kun, calm down immediately!" Iida shouted from across the room.

Bakugou grabbed Kaminari's ramen who yelled out in protest and held it high above her head. "You're going to pay for that tenfold, transfer student!" Bakugou growled at her so viciously that her hair nearly blew back.

Besides herself, she couldn't stop her tongue from forming the next words. "Could you step back a little? You're getting curry all over my uniform, Bakugou-kun."

It was like poking a sleeping dragon.

"AHHHH! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Bakugou's hand came down with the ramen bowl, but Tonks had already seen his movements from a mile away. She wrapped her hands around Bakugou's own, twisting until he hissed in pain. Right before the broth and noodles were able to crash on her head, she lifted her hand and slapped it away with a wordless _Depluso_.

It soared across the room, and she twisted her body to find out that it crashed into the laughing blond from 1-B, right in his face, and silencing him immediately.

Bakugou's hands were on her again in another fit of rage, but Tonks was ready this time. She held onto his hands that were gripping onto her shoulders and used it to step up the spiky blond, turning her body until she landed freely on the table behind her.

"You 1-A freaks think you're going to win after you did this to me?" the blond, who she later learned was Monoma, shreaked. He scooped up his bowl of miso soup and hurled it at Harry as hard as he could.

Tonks easily ducked out of its way.

"How childish, huh—?" Mineta tried to say, but only received a face full of miso instead.

The next few things happened too fast, and she hated to admit that she was upset that she couldn't enjoy it more.

A full-on food fight started in the cafeteria, and her grin stretched from ear to ear at the complete thought of a room full of kids with Quirks hurling food at each other. Not as cool as the Great Food Fight of her fourth year, where the brawled in the Great Hall, filled with trays and goblets that constantly refilled itself, but this was good enough.

Food of all kinds soared through the air, and she was pretty sure that she saw Mineta being thrown once or twice as well. Tables were upturned and used as barriers from other students, while the braver ones charged on with trays and their own will power. She was kneeling behind another table tipped over on its side with a small bowl of beef and rice in her hands, getting ready to strike.

"Don't think I'm fucking through with you yet!" a voice growled from her right, bringing his hands down on her shoulders. She threw away the tray that she was using as a shield and immediately whirled around to meet eyes with Bakugou.

"Bring it on, porcupine!" she goaded.

"You're going to wish you'd never been born when I'm through with you!" He shouted as he charged. Bakugou's fist sailed forward, stopping only when Tonks knocked it over with her own jab before she lifted a leg up and swung it at his neck.

His forearm was lifted up in a block, and he grabbed her ankle, dragging her forward. Immediately, her other leg was brought up while she was supported by Bakugou, nearly crashing with his straight nose if it weren't for the fact that he let out a small blast that stopped her.

He released her other leg and in those few seconds, she grabbed him by his torso, bringing her legs up before they hooked around his neck and leaned her body down to bring him down with her.

They both crashed on the ground, but Bakugou's recovery was speedy. He rolled over and brought his palms out, nearly ready to scorch her face before she wandlessly and wordlessly summoned two glasses of water and plunged both of his fists in them right as they were about to explode.

It wasn't long before their little brawl transformed into a spar. Tonks could tell that he was having just as much fun as she was from the glint in his eye and the upturn of the edges of his lips. Food was still being thrown around them as they fought, like a battlefield. It's been a while since she had actually sparred—Mad-Eye's peg leg always took the wind out of her, and she never wanted to reenact her training days, and Kingsley had enough muscle to stop her fists in their place and toss her across the room without any magic needed.

She was fighting a high school boy, but something as light as this was refreshing.

They ended up at opposite ends of the room, and the airborne food went from a raging storm into a light sprinkle. On the mental count of three, Tonks and Bakugou charged at each other. He jumped into the air with his palms out, ready to blow her into the next day, while she held out both of her hands.

"RAHHH!"

 _Depluso!_ she casted.

"You two better quit it right now!" a powerful voice yelled.

Immediately, Bakugou's Quirk disappeared, leaving nothing but empty hands, but Tonk's spell stayed. The Depluso caught on his chest without anything to stop it, and Bakugou was blasted back until he crashed into multiple other tables before his descent slowed into a stop, his head dropping with his arms slung over the edge of the table.

Everyone in the cafeteria stopped like they were frozen in ice.

They all stared with their mouths open as Aizawa and Cementoss walked toward the middle of the battlefield. The crowd around them split like the Red Sea, but the damage was already done.

"What the hell do you think you are all doing?!" Aizawa yelled out into the room. "You're lucky that it would be impossible for me to expel everyone in this room, or else you all would be going home, _right now_! Everyone here will be writing a letter of apology to Lunch Rush, and will be cleaning every corner of this cafeteria! You should all know that your parents will be informed by tonight." There was complete silence when he stopped. "Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, sir!" the whole room nearly chorused in fear.

"To be up and coming Heroes, you have to act like it!" Cementoss lectured. "I'm deeply ashamed of everyone here!"

"We apologize, Cementoss-sensei!"

"We're sorry!"

"We'll clean up, we promise!"

"Now…" Aizawa's voice slowed to a low growl, his scarves floating and his eyes glowing. "Who started the fight?" He asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

Nearly every hand that wasn't in 1-A turned and pointed to Harry and a still Bakugou.

"I-I can explain, sir!" Tonks fretted, her voice raising back to her original pitch in panic. "I-I—" She almost wanted to facepalm when she realized that she did exactly what Harry told her not to: get in the radar of the one teacher that suspected them the most.

"Save it," Aizawa spat out. "Take Bakugou to Recovery Girl, but you two will stay behind after school today to discuss your punishment."

She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Yes...Aizawa-sensei…."

Her head dipped, and her feet dragged behind her like a zombie. As she left the room, she didn't see the green eyes that followed her. Izuku Midoriya, even though he was covered in soy sauce and udon noodles, was now certain, but even more confused.

The clocktower at the end of the U.A. campus tolled once again, immediately after the final bell rang and food-covered students started to slowly file out of their classrooms like zombies. Class 1-A was the only classroom that had fresh, clean uniforms, courtesy of Momo's Quirk, but that couldn't be said the same for their hair and skin that still smelled like a restaurant.

Bakugou sat fuming at his desk—right as Recovery Girl revived him hours earlier, it was said that he shot up demanding another rematch with "the damned transfer student," but instead he was at his desk, shaking in fury like how he had done after the School Festival.

As students started to leave their classrooms, Tonk's hands covered the head that laid on the desk, and winced when Aizawa commanded her and Bakugou to follow them to the principal's office. Getting in trouble with Professor Sprout, McGonagall, and Snape was one thing—this was something else entirely.

When the trickle of students that were leaving the room slowed like grains of sand in an hourglass, Izuku shot up to Todoroki's desk.

"H-Hey, Todoroki-kun, can we talk?" he urged. "In private?"

. . .

The open hallway that led to the track and field was completely empty, and this entire wing of the building was completely empty save for the two of them.

"T-Todoroki-kun, I-I'm telling you this because I know that you interned with Harry, and-and I don't know who else to tell this to, but…" Izuku's shaking form and stuttering words stopped when he swallowed and steeled himself just for this. "I believe that the Harry that was with us for the past few weeks...is not the real Harry."

"I believe you."

"A-And I know that it sounds completely crazy, haha!" Izuku's eyes almost seemed like they were swirling when he started to go on his muttering rant. "B-But there's just too many inconsistencies with the Harry that we knew and the Harry now. Harry used to never eat in the cafeteria, or change in the locker rooms, but he suddenly started doing it about two weeks ago! Not only that, but earlier that 'Harry' was using onnarashii when Aizawa startled him. Nevermind the fact that this Harry is a lot more open when asked questions, when the original Harry is usually more guarded. This might just be the effects of Hosu, but I believe that—"

"Midoriya, stop." The green-haired teen's muttering was immediately silent like a pause button. "I believe you."

"A-Ah! R-Really?!" Midoriya stepped closer to the half-and-half boy. He had thought that he had to convince Todoroki on this, maybe even risked having Todoroki believe that he was insane, but he had never believed that Todoroki would accept it easily.

"Yes…" His voice dropped until it was slow and silent. Todoroki's eyes fell on his left hand. "Midoriya, you're one of the few that know of my difficult past with that man and so you know that Endeavor...has harmed me and my mother on multiple occasions in my childhood." Izuku's face twisted from across from him and Todorki's expression was distant with memories of the past. "That's why...I was able to confirm during our internship together that Potter has been abused. The Harry in that room...does not show the signs of abuse like the real Harry does."

"W-What…?" Izuku's voice squeaked out. His hands fell to his collar, almost like he had the instinct to twist fabric in his hands, or release the tightness in his throat. Harry wouldn't—Harry wouldn't hide that from him, would he? Izuku knew that Harry had a difficult childhood, and that was why his dad had taken him in, but Harry never said that his relatives abused him physically. This information was like a rock being dropped in his stomach.

"So what's the plan?" Todoroki asked, snapping Izuku out of his trance.

"H-huh?"

"What are we going to do to stop the fake Harry?"

"W-Well...I haven't thought that out yet." Across from him, Todoroki was giving him a flat look, but he chose to ignore it. "I-I think...I think we're dealing with something bigger here though…."

"What do you mean?" Todoroki's eyebrows furrowed.

"I know for sure that it was one of the two women that Harry was talking to that day—Y-You weren't there, but Harry said that they are alumni from his school and the fake Harry has mentioned that he fought against one of them once for prize money, so maybe the motivation is monetary, or-or revenge. The fake Harry was using feminine dialect earlier too, so it has to be one of them," he was rambling again.

"But-But...when Aizawa-sensei came in and canceled Kacchan and fake Harry's Quirks earlier...I thought for sure that was when Harry was going to be exposed! But...only Kacchan's Quirk was erased, and Harry was still able to use his…, both the original Harry's Quirk and the transformation ability. Aizawa-sensei couldn't have just erased only Kacchan's...he was looking at the both of them…. I think...what I'm trying to get at is...we're dealing with something bigger than just ordinary Quirks."

"I-I can't just sit here while he's out there somewhere without any note or notice...if he's okay or not..." Izuku looked up at Todoroki and locked eyes with him. "We have to stop the fake Harry."

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

College is a complete pain and I haven't written exclusively since the beginning of the school year. I'm back in school now, but I managed to get some inspiration again during spring break.

The first part is completely Hogwarts (and Half-Blood Prince plot)-centric, and some of the lines are straight out of the book, so I'm not sure if this is still being done in fanfictions nowadays, but I do not own Harry Potter! LOL

Someone also said that it is a bit confusing going from Harry to Tonks and I'm sorry about that! I write Tonks when it is clearly Tonks thinking, acting, and "narrating," and then I switch over to addressing Tonks as Harry if I wanted to share a view of someone else looking or thinking about "Harry."


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